


The Crystal quest

by Cleverbreawisekylan



Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: F/M, More to be added most likely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-01-22 21:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21308527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleverbreawisekylan/pseuds/Cleverbreawisekylan
Summary: They finally have the shard, the key to end Skeksis' power, but which gelfling will be the ones to carry it to the Castle? And who will heal the Crystal of Truth?
Relationships: Brea/Kylan (Dark Crystal), Deet/Rian (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Stone – in – the – wood is a vision of pure joy.

Even as the sky grows pink with sunset, the small village is alive with noise. Around the numerous camp fires there is merriment, generosity and a sense of comradery between the once clashing clans. While many are worn from the battle, it does little to suppress the spirit of hope that surrounds them.

_They did it. _

Together, caused the horrid Skeksis to run back to their castle with the tails pitifully between their legs.

That enough is cause for celebration, not to mention the unity that had been shown – unity that has been lacking for many trine. Even now, Sifans share drinks with Vaprans, Grotton share their stories of their hidden lives underground with the Spritons and Drenchens laugh merrily with Dousans.

Brea smiles as she breathes in the scene, remembering not so long ago her cultivated thoughts of her own clan’s superiority. For a few moments there are no clans, just gelfling.

But Mother Aughra’s words hang over her like a rain cloud, threatening to dampen her celebratory mood. She peers over to her now, surrounded by a barricade of curious gelfling with questions in abundance. “_How do you know so much about the skeksis?”_ and “_where have you been this whole time?_” Brea’s favourite comes from a childling with chubby cheeks and floppy, blond hair. “_How did you explode out the skeksis?_”

She half listens, half reflects. Her mind is tired, like a dwindling fire it grows smaller and smaller with activity. To be quite honest, each and every thought is focused on one thing.

The crystal shard held delicately in her fingers.

Oh, how the gelfling had cheered and hollered their glee when she had displayed it to them. She had felt the power from the shard, the same power that it exudes even now as she has no audience. While she feels that cautious hope bubbling away in her heart, the quest before them seems long and complicated.

“Rian! You’re back.”

She snaps up her head at the sounds of his name, eyes scanning the tree line for any sign of her friend. His absence had not gone unnoticed by Brea and a few others. Nor had Deet’s . . .

With worry tugging at her insides, she clings onto the shard and steps toward the Stonewood as she sees him approaching Gurjin.

* * *

Rian lets his feet carry him over to his friends, a slow amble that he’s adopted ever since Deet walked away from him in the forest. His head hangs heavily on his shoulders and his gaze keeps to the trodden floor of the forest. The last few rays of the setting suns bounce into his eyes, causing him to squint as he approaches Gurjin and the others.

They are already staring at him as he comes to a halt, no doubt expecting an explanation. "Rian! You're back." 

The defeated expression he wears must give some hints because Naia and Gurjin share a look, their thoughts unspoken. “Where have you been?” Gurjin brings him into a hug that does little to help Rian’s numbness to retreat.

“I went after Deet,” he confesses, his words empty and hollow. “After the fight, I followed her. I –” Rian sighs, head shaking with disbelief. “She’s not okay.”

“Where is she?” Gurjin questions, eyeing the treeline as though ready to run to her aid. “We can help her!”

Kylan and Naia nod keenly in agreement.

“Gone.”

Naia frowns. “What do you mean ‘gone’?” Her eyes are intense as they meet his, burning with confusion.

“I don’t know where she went. The forest . . . the trees.” He blinks sadly as he recalls the incident. “They grew dark around her, decaying. And her face . . she had purple eyes just like the other creatures had.” He moves to sit down, feeling unsteady on his tired feet. The others join him, gathering in a small circle on the edge of the camp where their words are hushed. “I think she has been infected by the darkening.”

Kylan lets out a small gasp, while Naia’s lips pull into an uneasy frown. Rian feels Gurjin’s hand on his shoulder, mustering an attempt of a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Rian.” He bows his head, almost respectfully. “She saved us all.”

This is where Rian’s head shoots up, shock hanging on his features. The loss is strong, burning at his insides painfully, but it’s also _familiar_. Gurjin’s consoling words are reminiscent of his loss of Mira. But this is different, he vows. This time, she’s going to be okay. Or at least, he’s going to do everything that he can to save her.

“Exactly.” He speaks. “She was kind.” He dares to smile softly. “Gentle. She believed in all gelfing coming together.” Lifting his gaze, he takes in their merry setting and wishes more than anything else that he too could revel in the victory. Only it doesn’t feel like a win. Not if he can’t share it with Deet.

Before he once more wallows in his upset, another voice calls through the air.

“Rian, thank Thra!” 

Brea doesn’t give him the chance to respond as she quickly has him held tightly against her in an embrace of relief and happiness. When she pulls away, her free hand holds onto his shoulder while he spies a glimmering object in the other. His eyes widen, Deet pushed to the back of his mind. Lingering, not forgotten.

"Brea." He musters the smallest of smiles at her present. He peers down at her hand. “What is that?”

She follows his gaze to the object herself, eyes wide and voice breathless. “This is the missing shard of the Crystal of Truth.”

Rian’s mouth drops open in surprise. “_The missing shard?_ But how did you find it?” His heart beat quickens with pace, bringing life back into his muscles. He shoots onto his feet and moves in closer to inspect it. The shard is stunning, especially as it catches the last of the sun’s light. A mirage of gorgeous colours shoot through it before it returns to its uniform white colour.

“It was inside the dual glaive. After The Hunter had broken it, I found the shard lying on the forest floor.” Brea can barely keep herself still, bouncing on her small feet. It’s then, too, that he notices the other three have joined them, almost making an impenetrable wall around the item in Brea’s hands.

“The dual glaive?” he asks, meeting her eyes. “_Huh_. We had this the whole time?” 

She nods vigorously. “And this means we can use it to end the Skeksis’ power, just like the heretic said we could. Thra will be restored to its true peace and gelfling will prosper once more.” Her voice is hopeful. _Just like Deet’s_, he thinks dejectedly yet the stirring in his belly tells him that their hardships are not yet over.

“Well.” He starts impatiently. “I will take the shard to the castle. I will heal the Crystal of truth and –” Rian reaches out for the shard but Brea snatches her hand out of the way, forehead knitting together tightly.

“No.”

He tilts his head, ears flying back. “No?” He asks in surprise. Even Kylan, Naia and Gurjin look to her curiously.

“I mean . . .” She lets out a small groan. “Not yet.” She peers around at the others, eyes thoughtful as ever. “The Maudra’s haven’t decided a plan yet. I was ordered by Seladon to keep the shard safe.”

“We have a plan. To heal the Crystal.” His voice is strained and impatient.

“As much as I want it to be that easy, we cannot be rash. We have won today, but to win tomorrow and the day after, _we have to have a plan_.” She sighs, “Do you want what we went through to be for nothing? What Deet did for us?” Before he is given the chance to answer, he suddenly finds her staring directly at him. Her inquisitive eyes penetrate through the layer of sadness that surrounds him. She frowns, her eyes unsure “Where _is_ Deet? I thought she was with you?”

The thought of Deet that had been briefly dormant at the back of his mind launches forward with a painful tug. Brea seems to notice the way his shoulder slump, because she reaches out and takes hold of one of his hands. “Rian?” she prompts gently.

And so he tells her. He repeats it to many gelfling before the night is over – with each recount of Deet tearing herself away from him he feels a piece of himself crying out in pain. Almost as though a piece of him is missing, just as the Crystal of Truth lives without a particular lost shard.

* * *

Kylan blinks as he steps outside with the bright morning sky greeting him hello. His muscles ache with exertion from the battle, but he lets a feeling of relief wash over him.

The Hunter is dead.

He has turned to ashes that scatter floor, no longer able to trouble the innocent. With a heavy heart, he thinks to those who could not escape this particular skeksis. He considers his own personal losses experienced at the hands of The Hunter. But Kylan tries not to dwell. At least now his parents have some sort of justice and he can rest that little bit better knowing that their murderer no longer sets foot on Thra.

Stone – in – the – wood presents a different atmosphere this morning, with gelfling slow to wake after the celebrations the night before. He spies the many who couldn’t find an abode to sleep and merely lay on the floor to rest. Colourful tents are pitched wherever there is space, with the signs of life and settlement set up outside each and every one of them.

He slowly paces on the uneven floor, head tilting as he follows the leaves floating down from the trees present a brilliant display of oranges and maroons. _Odd_, he thinks, _it seems early for the trees to prepare for their slumber._

The forest crunches beneath his feet and he spies a group of fizzgig chasing one another around a falling tree. Kylan sets his path toward the drinking fountains, sighing in relief as the cold water slides down his dry throat. As his gaze drifts off, he catches sight of a certain blonde gelfling with her ear pressed forcefully against the doors of the Maudra’s ceremonial room.

His lips tug upwards in amusement and he approaches Brea with curiosity. “Is there any reason why you’re stood listening to a door?”

She jumps at the sound of his voice, ears twitching with embarrassment. “I – uh – I just wanted to hear what was going on . . . `”

He now attempts a glance at the closed door, wondering what drew her attention to intensely. Brea is one jump ahead and seems to know his question without it actually having to be spoken. “Seladon and the Maudra’s are discussing what we do with the shard.” Her eyes widen. “Mother Aughra is in there too.”

“_Oh_.” His interest peaks. He steps closer.

His sleep had been troubled last night thinking of the days ahead, especially of the fate of their friend Deet. More than once he had been ripped from his slumber with dreaded thoughts, leading to the dark circles under his eyes and a weariness to his posture. “Can you hear anything? What have they said?”

“I don’t know!” she cries out in frustration. “The doors are so thick that I can’t quite make out their words. I just know that there has been a lot of shouting.”

"That's not good . . ." He frowns deeply. 

Brea's head lowers, a sigh floating softly from her lips. He can see her breath in the cold morning air. "I just hope that they make the right decision. For Deet's sake." 

He feels a pang in his heart at the mention of the ill - fated Deet. "Me too," he nods. "Do you think the Maudras will come to agreement?" There is doubt lining his words - a unanimous decision will be difficult to achieve, especially with their young All Maudra thrown into the midst of everything.

When Brea can't hear anything, she decides to peer through a small crack in the splintered doors. Kylan tilts his head curiously. “Surely you should be there too, as the Princess . . . ?”

She shifts nervously on the feet. “Seladon thinks I ask too many questions.” She confesses, lowering her head slightly. “Besides, I’m not really well versed in the meeting and politics like my sister is. My mother wanted me to be involved but I much preferred spending my time in the library at Ha’rar.” The way her eyes glisten with fondness brings a smile to her lips.

“What did you like to read about?” he asks before he can even think.

Brea gives a long pause, her lips pursing thoughtfully. After a moment, she sighs. “_Everything_.”

Kylan’s smile grows wider.

* * *

Inside the thick stone walls, the room is noticeably less amicable.

The women gather around the sturdy wooden table and peer across at each other as yet another suggestion is discarded. They are certainly less well rested than the two gelfling outside, having spent most of the night in heated discussion.

“This is useless.” Maudra Laesis grumbles. In the dim light, her severe features are shadowed yet still catch Seladon’s eye. “We have been here since the early hours and have no conclusion. How much longer must we bicker?”

“We need a solution.” Seladon insists, her voice firm and poised. Every bit of the leader she tries to be on a daily basis. Her actions with the skeksis still leave her internally wounded, racked with shame. It’s a burden that she has no choice but to carry, and she does so with it hanging over her every thought. Her narrowed eyes meet the room, resting on the huffing Mother Aughra in the corner. “At least if we cannot decide what to do with crystal shard, we can at least discuss the matter of the Grotton.”

“What about them?” Maudra Mera frowns.

“Them! _Them_?” Maudra Argot’s face twists with annoyance. “We are gelfling, too!”

“I didn’t mean –”

“No, of course you didn’t.” She tsks, then shakes her head. As she does some, some of her wispy, white hair falls from her headpiece.

“The caves of Grot were destroyed.” Seladon continues, quickly trying to avoid more tension. “And so our allies need somewhere to relocate with enough supplies and abodes to keep them strong.” There is a stony silence around the room. “Which means they need our help.”

“We are all struggling.” Maudra Laesis comments, “We cannot support an entire clan.”

“I understand. Even our farming lands in the mountains are struggling. The blight brings with it many struggles . . . but this is one that we must find an answer to.” She keeps steady eye contact with them all, hoping to keep her expression strong as she commands the room. She feels a lump in her throat as the next words escape her leaves. “Gelfling have always been strongest when we stand together.” An image of Maudra Fara flashes inside her mind, as does Tavra. More so of anyone they taught her the importance of working as one.

Despite the initial protest, she earns a series of small nods. “We must each do our duty and offer homes to a number of the Grotton.”

“And in return,” Mother Argot starts, “we can work. We got quite self – sufficient underground, you know? Have a few tricks up our sleeves that you day walkers couldn’t even imagine.” When she turns to Seladon, her large, dark eyes are grateful.

“Good.” She nods. “Now the next order of business, we must elect a new Maudra for Stone – in – the – wood as soon as poss –”

“Bah!” Mother Aughra interrupts, all head flying in her direction. She had sat stoic for many moment before bursting with animation. “Not important.” She shakes her head, groaning as she stands on her shaky knees. “Now, crystal shard. That is what you should be worrying about.”

“The skeksis are hiding in the castle. They dare not attack us again – two of them were destroyed!”

Aughra’s one good eyes settles on Seladon harshly. “But still, skeksis live.” Beginning to circle the table, speaks gruffly. “They will not skulk in their castle for long. They pride is hurt and their longing for eternal life stronger than ever.” She shakes her head. “This battle will not stop them.”

“What makes you so sure?” asks Maudra Seethi.

“Because I _know_ the Skeksis.” She grunts.

“Then what do you suggest?”

She sighs. “What do_ I_ suggest? It is not me who can stop them.” Aughra shakes her head. “No, no, no. The skeksis can only be defeated by gelfling hand.”

“How do we do it?”

“I don’t know.”

Seladon sucks in a sharp breath, her patience wearing this. “You command us but yet you do not have the answer?”

“No one has the answer. Not skeksis, not gelfing. Not even Aughra.”

“But you can talk to Thra.” Madra Laesid’s expression is hard. “It gives you visions.”

“Yes.” She nods. “Many visions. _Too_ many. Of all the paths that gelfling could take.” At this point, she’s rounded the room, her stick scraping against the stone floor with a terrible screech. Aughra returns to her seat at the head of the table, bathed in the light that floods through the broken ceiling. “But I cannot see everything.”

Seladon shakes her head. “Enough of your cryptic words, Mother Aughra. Have you seen the shard in any of these visions?” When desperation slips into her voice, she does her best to reel it back.

“I have seen many endings. And in all of them if the Crystal is not healed Thra will become a desolate land of dust and darkness.”

Her words linger across the air, no one daring to cut through them with their own. Contemplative, Seladon thinks to the task at hand, to what it will cost them to take on such a quest. She does as she always has been taught – to consider the options dutifully and find the fairest answer. Only, what _is_ the right answer? There are so many gelfling to consider, so many lives in her hands . . . The pressure pushes harder on her, so much so that she almost buckles. Her emotions dangle by a thread, precariously so.

“Then we must take action.” She concludes. “_Soon_.”

“Who will go?” The Maudras begin muttering between themselves, a tense discussion of sharp tongues and stubborn suggestions.

“The Drenchen are strong. We can heal the Crystal!”

“You barely travel from your great swamp. How do you know to infiltrate the castle? The Sifan will be the ones to go!”

Maudra Mera bangs her fist on the table. “Us Spritons are warriors. It would be our honour to carry out this task.”

Seladon lifts her hands, voice rising. “Quiet Maudras.” The rabble continues, only growing more and more in unrest. She swears that the room shakes as it feels the ferocity of their words. “Hush now.” Her upper lip curls in annoyance, teeth clenching together. “**_Quiet!_**”

All eyes focus on her.

It’s now or never.

She and the Maudras must make the right decision for the sake of all the gelfling. For the sake of Thra.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So turns out writing for Seladon is super hard but she is such an interesting character. Hopefully the story should begin to pick up and offer lots of twists and turns.

All the clans stand together as the announcement is made.

They will send the strongest from each clan to the Castle, paladins who can fight; ex – guards who know every nook and cranny. The gelfling will take the shard and heal the Crystal. Or so they hope.

Rian sits quietly as the news is revealed. It’s take a couple of days to come to this decision. Two days too long, he thinks with a frown. Who knows what could have passed in such time? Were the Skeksis planning a revolt? Or something much more sinister?

He feels drowned by the responses of the other gelfling, throwing question after question toward the All Maudra who does her best to satiate them. The fear amongst the crown is noticeable, as is the anger. Many have lost family and friends, some have even lost the only home they knew. These are dire times indeed and Rian can feel the pressure of their small shoulders.

Yet, if they share it, they can win. He believes that with all his heart.

Peering around, he tries to gauge the reaction of his friends. Naia and Kylan are difficult to read, but Gurjin is nodding his head in approval. More so than most he is determined to put an end to their enemies.

When he spies Brea sat slightly behind her sister, she is an open book. Disappointment floods across her pale face as she sits wide eyed, doing her best to keep herself in her seat and not interrupt her sister. It seems she _too_ had other plans.

* * *

“But I want to go!”

Brea finds herself glaring toward her sister, voice bouncing from the walls of their temporary above. It feels as though it shakes uneasily under her impressive volume. Even the wildlife scatter away. “Please, Seladon.” When she finds herself under Seladon’s powerful gaze, she gives an indignant huff. “This isn’t fair.”

Her sister takes a few paces toward her, a hand landing softly on Brea’s shoulder. If she is disgusted by her worn and dirtied clothes from the battle, she makes no indication of it. Instead, Seladon is uncharacteristically gentle. “Brea. The Maudras and I have agreed that this is best. We did not take this decision lightly.”

“But I can go as a Vapran representative.”

“_No_.” Her eyes widen briefly, then become small slithers. “We are to send the strongest, the most skilled in battle. You are many things, Brea, but it would be dangerous to send you on this quest.”

She pulls away from Seladon’s touch. “Who will go from our clan?”

“One of our paladins.” She speaks. “They have already agreed to protect the shard with their life. The other clans will choose a gelfling as soon as they are able.” Even though her words are confident, Brea notices the way her shoulders tense. As she peers at her sister through the dwindling light, she can see the toll of her new position beginning to take effect. How long has it been since Seladon has slept? Judging by the way her eyes are bloodshot and strained, she fears too long.

“I need to do this.” She insists.

“Brea, listen to me –”

“I wanted to help end this . . .” Brea confesses. “I wanted to help heal the Crystal and help Deet.”

“And you can. But the Castle is no place for you, Brea.” Her gaze drops. “Not again.” She spies the flash of guilt that shoots across Seladon’s features, only for it to disappear as the setting suns do. “Besides, I need you to return to Ha’rar.”

This causes Brea to frown, lips opening to allow a small gasp out. “Ha’rar?”

“Yes.” The seriousness in Seladon’s tone is all too well known to Brea. “We have duties, sister. Now more than ever the gelfling need a leader to guide them in this time of doubt. I intend to return two days from now, once the quest in underway and a new Maudra chosen for Stone – in – the – wood. Then, I have to lead my people.”

Brea looks to Seladon with a tilt of her head – for a moment she sees a hint of her mother in the way that she speaks, regal and proud. It makes her heart beat that little bit faster, a lump crawling its way up her throat.

“And why must I join you?”

Seladon doesn’t hide her upset.

“I mean . . .” Brea backpedals. “Surely I can be useful elsewhere?” She peers out the window, almost longingly. “There is so much out there that I could do.”

“You will be most useful by my side.”

“What?” she frowns.

“You are a Princess, Brea.” She speaks with intensity lacing her words. “Now more than ever your role is important not only for the Vapran clan, but for all gelfing. Like I said, the gelfling need a leader.” Brea nods unsurely. “And if anything happened to me . . . you would be my successor.”

“_Oh_!”

The weight from Seladon’s shoulders seems to jump right across onto those of young Brea, whose face drops at that thought. In the midst of everything, the Vapran throne of the All Maudra had been but a faint thought in the back of her mind. Never in her wildest dreams had Brea ever considered _herself_ taking such a role. Why should she? With Tavra and Seladon, she had been free to put her worries in far more whimsical problems.

“Me?” she places a hand to her chest. “Seladon. I don’t think -”

“You will come to Ha’rar with me.” Her words leave no room for argument. Stopping for a brief moment, Seladon watches over her and then leans in to wrap her arms around the smaller gelfling. “I know you want to help, Brea, but this is how you can help your people.” She sighs sadly, “It is with a heavy that that we must all accept our duties.”

“But –”

And with that she is gone, leaving Brea to lose herself in her thoughts. She moves to the window, eyes finding Seladon as she retreats to speak with one of the other Maudras. Even as she walks, she maintains the uttermost poise and appears to almost float on air.

Compared to the calmness of her sister, Brea’s mind couldn’t feel more hectic. Going back to Ha’rar had been the last thing in her plan – if anything she only would have returned to scour the library for any information it can offer on the crystal shard. Even so, her heart had been set on the journey to take the shard to the Castle.

To save Deet.

While her dreamfast with Rian had given her little information, it had been enough. Deet is in trouble, she’s infected with a vile disease and, more importantly, she _needs_ her friends. 

Brea sighs deeply, her entire body seeming to deflate.

* * *

Naia smiles as she spies Kylan sat on the river’s edge, his legs dangling over the small ledge. His gaze is currently set on a couple of landstriders in the distance. The pair nuzzle and coo at one another, drawing his attention. For a few moments they capture hers too until she breaks her stare and moves to join her friend.

Dipping the end of her toes in the cold water, she smiles at how refreshing it feels. “You know,” she begins as he looks up to her in welcome, “the Dark Wood can be quite beautiful.”

“It has its moments.” He says, voice restrained.

She recognises his tone immediately, placing a hand on her friend’s. Kylan smiles. “It does not bring as much sadness as it used to. I almost feel . . . resolution.”

“That’s good.” She nods. “You are often too hard on yourself.”

Kylan give a soft chuckle. “And you are often there to talk me out of it.” He squeezes her hand in return, a thankful gesture. Then, his gaze lifts curiously. “Have you been asked to join the quest to the Crystal castle?”

“Mother asked both Gurjin and I to go.” A smirk follows. “I suppose it means this time I can keep him out of trouble. My brother has a gift for getting himself in some sticky situations.”

“Hmm, I know that all too well.”

“What about you . . .?” She hesitates, knowing that amongst the fierce warriors of the Spritons, Kylan the song teller is not exactly the most revered. “Who will go for the Spriton clan?” 

“It is not yet decided. Maudra Mera has many options.” She notices him fidgeting with the firca in his hand, almost nervously.

She gives a thoughtful pause. “Let’s hope she chooses well. In all honesty, I could use you to help me keep Gurjin in check.”

“_Me_?”

Naia follows with a small laugh at his surprise. “Yes, Kylan.” Then she leans close. “Between you and me, I’ve tasted the cooking of all these other gelfing – I hardly think it’s fit to get us through the journey.”

His ears lift happily, shoulders rising as pride fills him. “And I’ve been practising my sword skills!” He jumps to his feet so quickly that she always has a fright. Gripping hold of the weapon that had been sat beside him, he displays it excitedly. “Watch!” Kylan swerves and swings the sword in a series of rough movements, similarly to the way that he had fought the skeksis. Naia watches, surprised by the skill she definitely doesn’t remember him having.

“Ah!”

She must have spoke too soon as he flings the sword so hard that it spirals through the air and lands in a clatter in one of the berry bushes not far from them. Kylan watches, mouth agape then looks sheepishly for her reaction.

“I think,” she starts, moving to retrieve the flung weapon and place it back in his hands, “you’re a natural.”

* * *

“Uh . . . Mother Aughra!” Brea all but sprints toward the woman who sits peacefully with her back flush against the tree truth. Her eyes are closed in a contemplative manner, lines wrinkling around her tight lips. Upon hearing the young gelfling, her eye flashes open. “Thank Thra,” she slows in front of her, face pink with exertion. “I came looking for you as fast as I could.”

“What is it, childling?”

If called that by anyone else, Brea would have quickly bristled and bit back, but she holds her tongue. There are _way_ more important things to think about.

“_The shard_.” She begins. “It was glowing again!”

“It was?” Her thick brows lifts slowly. “Interesting.”

“What does it mean?”

Brea peers up to her, hungry for some sort of knowledge on the mysterious shard. While she has been keeping it tucked safely away, it now is held outstretched in her hand. It no longer glows with deep purple veins. Instead, it looks cloudy white once more, little sign that it is anything other than ordinary.

Aughra peers from Brea to the crystal and then back again. “Don’t know.” She grumbles.

Her mouth falls open softly. “You don’t know?” A frustrated sigh then follows, Brea nearing as much as she can. “But you must know something about the shard! You have known the Skeksis for thousands of trine.”

“That, I have.” The emotion on her face is difficult to decipher, even as Brea observes her with great fascination. “Long, long time.” She moves slowly to get more comfortable, the great mass of cloth shifting like soft waves.

Brea frowns. “How old are you, Mother Aughra?”

“**_Old?!_**” She bellows. In her surprise, Brea jumps slightly from the balls of her feet, eyes widening and emitting a quiet gasp. “Old? I am new born.” Despite her gruff tone, she can see the mischievous twinkle in Mother Aughra’s eye. It allows her to relax once more. Lips pressing firmly together, she plonks herself down on the floor beside the woman, not caring as the dirt and twigs stick to her. There are far more important matters at hand.

“How old are you really?” She persists.

There is a pause.

In this time, the world around Brea seems to breathe to life – the flames of the many fire dance in harmony, the winds sing through the thicket above them and the chorus of wildlife hangs pleasantly in the air.

“As old as Thra itself. _Almost_.” she speaks. Her voice captures Brea in intrigue, the young gelfling hanging off of Aughra’s every word. “Like the tallest trees and the highest mountains . . . Aughra has been here for many trine.”

The smile slowly fades off her lips. “Then why did you send your eye to the stars?” Her voice is almost accusing. “Why did you turn away from Thra?”

She frowns fiercely, her thick brow knotting into a clump on her forehead. Peering up to the hazy sky, she clutches more tightly to her walking stick. “Aughra wanted to see the stars. Urskeks gave me the chance to see life beyond Thra.” She sighs regretfully, eye closing. “And I took it.”

“Do you regret it?”

There is no reply to this, only a moment’s ponder.

Aughra peers to the shard in her hand, before pointing to it with a thick finger. “Crystal must be healed.” She says, “gelfling will heal Thra.” Then, she sits erect, almost defiantly. “Aughra will help.”

Pausing her own gaze downwards, Brea feels herself slump in contrast. “Will it heal Deet?”

“So fully of questions.” Aughra shakes her head. “You must find answers for yourself.”

The way she swerves around Brea’s words causes her heart to seize. “You don’t know that either?” She thinks to her friend – the gentle grotton who deserved none of this yet suffers the most. Chin setting with determination, she shakes her head. “Well, we have to do something.” Mother Aughra looks to her in interest even as she sits stoically.

“Gelfling leave for the Castle soon.” At the news of this, Brea’s frown deepens further. “What is troubling you?”

Brea lets her gaze sweep around Stone - in – the - wood, at the congregation of gelfling preparing for the days ahead. “My sister is sending the strongest gelfling to the Castle.” She answers, peering down to the shard. “The strongest from each clan.”

“She is.”

“Do you think they can heal the Crystal?” She tries not to let uncertainty taint her words only to become unsuccessful. “Will the quest fail?” Brea jumps with a thought. “Not that I don’t have faith in our paladins and warriors . . . but if we are to heal Deet too – they don’t even know her.” She gasps as her thoughts darken. “What happens to her if this fails?”

“Paladins help gelfing in need.” She offers.

“I can’t help but feel that Deet is now connected to the Crystal in some way . . .” she proposes. “Her eyes – the Crystal of Truth.” Brea firmly grips the item in her hand. “The shard. All the same.”

She gulps, heart heavy, “if this goes wrong, I am scared for my friend.”

“_Ah_.” Aughra nods. “Fear is good. Fear means gelfing is alive.” Her face is all kinds of intense as she speaks in a strong voice. “_Use it_. Help gentle Deet.”

Her words stick in her throat for a brief few seconds before she chokes them out. “But _how_? I have to go to Ha’rar with Seladon.”

Looking over Brea’s head at some movement behind her, Aughra nods her head. “Hmmmmf! Seladon can manage. Your fate is not in mountains.”

Heart beginning to pick up pace, Brea stares with mouth hanging agape. “My fate?”

“You must join the quest, Brea.”

“But Seladon is only sending the strongest.” She counters, “I am no paladin.”

“Paladin?” She shakes her head, hair moving wildly as she does so. “That you are not. And a quest needs strength, this is true. But it also needs brave gelfling – fierce, wise . . . it needs _clever_ gelfling. ” This is when Brea feels the bore of _both_ of Aughra’s eyes, holding her strongly in place.

The world seems to spin around her, fate dangling ever so precariously over a proverbial cliff. In her head, the weight of the shard seems to triple, now allowing her to escape its presence.

While she’d gone to Aughra to answer merely a few questions, Brea suddenly finds herself lost in a million more.

* * *

Kylan meticulously places the supplies away, sticking up his nose as Gurjin throws another travel bag his way. “I can’t help but notice that these are rather . . . odious.” He tilts his head, “do you ever consider _washing_ them?”

From behind him, Naia _tsks_. “He thinks it brings him luck.” Her strong gaze lands on her brother, who has opened his mouth to protest. “Despite my own objections.” She too is packing away gourds and food – her own bag filled with healing medicines.

“And I stand by it.” Gurjin insists. “I’m not dead yet.” He gives a sheepish shrug as they both give him _the look_. “Just a little battered and bruised.”

“Well, here’s hoping that the quest succeeds. It’s a dangerous thing. Going back to the castle.” Kylan shudders at his own memory of its dark and gloomy corridors.

Gurjin nods. “It’s the only way to put an end to the Skeksis’ treachery.” His features pinch into anger, hands clenching tightly onto the innocent gourd in his hands. “They all deserve to be turned to dust for what they’ve done.” The ferocity of his words catches Kylan by surprise, but he finds himself quickly distracted by quick movement in his peripheral vision.

Twisting his head, he spies Brea running between the camped gelfing toward Rian’s home. She moves with such speed and determination that she has many near misses with stationery gelfling, which quickly becomes a hit as she clumsily barges into a small childling she must have not noticed. “_Oh_. I’m so sorry!” she squeaks.

He finds himself smiling at her flushed cheeks before she gently helps the childling back to its feet. Then, she peers around with feverish energy and carries on her way.

“Kylan.”

The Spriton’s attention is only dragged away as another item is thrown his way, this time whacking the side of his head with a great _thump_. He jumps, blinking furiously. “What was that for?”

Both Naia and Gurjin are focused on him. “What were you looking at?”

“Brea . . .” He picks up his hand to point where she had just been only to find little sign of her run through the crown. Shoulders slumping, he feels his lips tug downwards into a frown. “She was . . . uh.” Kylan shakes his head. “Where did she _go_?”

This leaves two very confused Drenches and one _extremely_ confused Spriton.

* * *

Rian footsteps are slow and troubled as he walks through Dark Wood.

It’s funny, he thinks, how this is the place where he was born and yet he knows so very little of it. All his life spent in the Castle protecting what had once been their lords had stolen his childhood in this place.

Every so often, a stream of light will burst through the dense canopy above him. So piercingly bright that he has to close his eyes, if only for a second.

He soon opens them again. His purpose here is not to admire the beauty of the forest – he still seeks Deet. This is not the first time he’d travelled the woods in the past few days. In fact he’s beginning to lose count. But with the quest set of begin tomorrow, he thought he’d try one more attempt at finding his friend. A small part of him hopes to find her unscathed, the same sweet and wonderful gelfling who had spoken so proudly of her nurloc rump dress.

Rian knows that won’t be the case but he tries to stay positive. _For her. _

In spite of everything, she had always found the good in every situation. He wishes she could be here with him now, helping the resistance to well and truly put an end to Skeksis’ rule.

He allows a deep sigh to follow, coming to a halt as the trees and thicket begin to tangle and intertwine. For some, many of the leaves already lay dying in a pile beneath, while others fight desperately to reach the beaming light above. The stunted plants, strangers to the light, are like shadows beneath the successful.

That doesn’t keep the life from them.

Rian stares to the beautiful flowers that have erupted from many of the plant life, a series of deep reds and blues that please the eye. “Huh.” He begins curiously, having never seen these before. The land surrounding the Castle had always been flat, lifeless – only acres and acres of field and wetlands. He steps further into these parts of the forest, admiring the plethora of life that it boasts. The rustle of creatures he can’t see is subtle and the ground rumbles as though welcoming him.

He smiles, feeling as though he is appreciating Thra at its finest for the first time.

But in the midst of all this beauty, something causes his heart to drop.

Crouching down, he places his hand to the olive coloured moss covering the jagged rocks. It is soft and fuzzy to touch, but something about it causes his stomach to knot. The familiar purple veins infiltrate from the soil. _Almost beautifully_, Rian nods, _but deadly._

Then when he peers into the distance, he notices more hints of the darkening – in the coarse tree bark, in the leaves dancing down from their perch on the branches and lighting up the forest floor. Looking closer, his forehead scrunches in concentration. It appears to be in a straight line . . . as though . . .

_As though someone had walked through. _

“Deet!” he cries out, beginning to take the path without hesitation.

* * *

Seladon somehow manages to excuse herself away from the other Maudras.

With the chosen gelfing due to begin their journey in the early hours of the morning, preparation has been hectic. Not to mention having to deal with the backlash of such a plan. _You cannot please everyone_, she had told herself over and over, hoping that the words would eventually settle in. Even now, she feels the stares toward her, sees the whispers shared between gelfling.

Back into the small walls of the abode, she sets about making a fire and lighting the few candles. The cramped and cluttered rooms are a far cry to what she’s used to, but like all gelfing these days she must make do. For now.

She readily awaits her journey back to her home in the morning. Yet at the same time the feeling of relief is tainted with guilt – to all the terrible decisions she had made while blinded by her own loyalty. There had been fear as well. How could everything she’d ever been taught be _wrong_? How could the gracious and giving Lords ever want to hurt their people?

But the gelfling are _not_ their people.

Seladon had discovered the hard way the vicious acts of her once revered rulers. She lifts a hand gently to her cheek, the cut beginning to scab and heal. While she had first wished to be rid of the unsightly thing, it now serves as a firm reminder.

She warms herself by the flickering flames and sits down on the dusty seats. They are comfortable and well – worn. She tries to imagine who had sat here before her. The troubles seem to melt away as the cold fades from her body. At least, to the back of her mind. There is work yet to be done, gelfling to lead.

Speaking of which, where _is_ her sister?

She pauses, having not seen her for much of the afternoon. Brea had not hid her feelings about returning to Ha’rar and so has sought the company of others for the past couple of days. Seladon would be lying if she said that hadn’t hurt her but like ever she keeps her emotion behind closed doors.

Her duty is to her people and not to her heart.

Growing concerned, Seladon rises and begins to search around the small home, peering inside the room in which Brea had been sleeping. There is little sign of life in there, only the rustled blankets on the bed. The window of is, causing the shutters to tap back and forth against the frame. She steps over and closes it in a hurry as to keep the cold out.

When she spins, her eyes narrow in thought. “Hmm.” She takes a closer look around the room, only to realise that there is _nothing_ of her sister’s in here. A sinking feeling takes over her. Seladon’s fingers begin to tremble as she spies a flash of cream amongst the browns and greys of the room. She nears the bed, reaching for the parchment that is lay neatly across the pillow.

She lifts it, knowing in an instant that whatever is on here is only going to mean trouble.

The handwriting is recognisably Brea’s. But while her sentences are usually neat, curved and delicately written, this writing is troubled. The words are rushed messily across the page.

_I’m sorry Seladon. I have to help Deet. I love you._

Her breath catches in her throat and her heartbeat pounds like drums in her ears. “_Oh Brea_.” 

* * *

Kylan takes great content in his own solitude, sitting back with a full stomach and hope filling his heart. It brings him joy to see the gelfling working together in such a way, a unity that is so strange and foreign to him.

Reaching to his belt, he unhooks his firca and begins to softly play one of his songs. The tune is uplifting, optimistic. A better dawn is coming, he knows it, one where the Skeksis _no_ longer rule the land, just as they do not rule his heart.

So lost in his music, he almost doesn’t notice as a cloaked figure scuttles past. Then he sees a flash of blonde in the movement and immediately drops his firca from his lips. Kylan stands, eyes dashing about frantically to try and recover his view of the person once more. Then he spies them heading into the dark wood.

The cloak flutters around them, revealing the Vapran garments and the familiar face of one particular gelfling. “_What is she doing?_” He finds himself asking, wondering where on earth the Princess would be going at such a late hour, especially into the wood _alone_. He picks up his sword, ready to go after her and help if needs be.

Then he sees the flash of the item in her hand and it all makes sense.

She’s running away.

She’s running away _with the shard._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So hopefully this story isn't going too slow. I promise there will be more action soon. And more from Brea/Kylan because I ship the hell out of those too!

A small commotion catches Naia’s attention. She lifts her gaze from the blade that she’s sharpening to find the Maudras all rushing to the council chambers. “Hmmm.” She begins thoughtfully, wondering what would cause their haste. Seladon leads the way, her expression that same stiff way that Naia isn’t sure she likes.

Her hand slows as she watches them in curiosity.

Naia’s attention is drawn away when she hears footsteps. They quicken as they approach her, followed by heavy panting.

She smirks when she recognises the sound. “Hello Kylan.” Turning, she sees the Spriton looking rather aghast. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something.” He frowns, eyes serious. “Something bad.”

“What is it?”

“I saw Brea leaving Stone – in – the – Wood.”

Naia frowns. “That is what you had to tell me?”

“No! Well, _yes_. She had the shard . . . she ran into the woods with it.”

“_What_?” she stands, hand clenching around the blade with a tight hold as she holds it outright. She hadn’t expected this of _Brea_ of all gelfling. “When?”

“A little over an hour ago.” Kylan seems just as shocked as her. “I didn’t know what to do . . . I followed her to make sure that she was okay but I somehow lost her.” He drops his head in sadness, “do you think I should tell the All Maudra?”

A series of yells emit from the building in the distance and they look to it in unison. “Something tells me she might already know.” She deadpans.

Kylan sighs, his appearance tense. “We need to go after her, Naia. It’s not safe.”

“Yes,” she nods, “and stop her from doing anything stupid.”

“. . . that too.”

Naia is already reaching for her things. “Get Gurjin.” She starts, “we’re leaving.”

* * *

“_She what_?”

Seladon faces the circle of Maudras with dread in her heart yet does her best to keep it from her expression. The gelfling in the room boast years’ more experience than she does at leadership, almost an intimidating amount. Each set of those wise eyes narrow in on the All Maudra. Stiffening up, she stands straight and holds her chin up high.

“She has gone.” She repeats, “And taken the shard with her.”

The room explodes with a series of disruptive mutters and comments.

“_Where has she taken it?_”

“_She has forsaken us!_”

“_Does the travel to the Castle alone?!_”

Their words teeter on worry, laced with fear.

It’s Mother Laesid who bangs her staff harshly against the floor. It causes a thick echo to clamber around the room and break their noise. “Enough, Maudras.” Lips set into a thin line, eyes dark and harsh, she looks to Seladon. “Our fate now lies in the hands of a _childling_, I know. This is grave news indeed.”

“Brea is no childling.” She insists. “She was one of the first to fight for the resistance. She is a hero.”

“You have changed your tune.” The gelfling accuses. “Considering you let your own sister be imprisoned by the Skeksis.” Those words are like a dagger to her heart – Seladon winces at the blunt reminder of her own actions. Relentlessly, they continue. “And just like you, she is young and foolish.” Sucking in a sharp breath, she shakes her head with sadness. “We must stop her before this naïve endeavour continues.”

“We will send our paladins after her.” She nods firmly.

“How will they find her?” Maudra Seethi questions, “We have no idea how long she has been gone.”

“The landstriders can easily catch up to Brea.”

“And where will they go? We do not even know where she took the shard. What if she is not taking it to the castle at all?”

They fall into a contemplative silence.

“Maudra Mera is right.” A series of bobbing heads follows as the gelfling agree. “Brea’s whereabouts are unknown. Perhaps she does not intend to make the journey to the castle.”

Seladon frowns, confusion washing over her. “Are you suggesting that she has another motive?”

“It is possible.”

She shakes her head vigorously. “That isn’t true. Brea wants to heal the Crystal. She made her intentions very clear when –”

“You _knew_ that she was going to do this?”

“What? **No**!”

Eyes turn accusingly in her direction. “But you were aware that she wanted to make the journey?”

She hesitates, frowning. “Yes. She and I had argued about her going not long after our decision.” She admits. “Brea wanted to join the quest but I insisted that she return to Ha’rar with me.”

“Ah yes and the princess has _always_ been an obedient childling.” Maudra Laesid announces sarcastically. “You have been naïve, Seladon.”

“I put my faith in my sister.” She counters.

“And we put our faith in you . . . and now we have no shard.” The words are an icy blow, served with a helping of guilt.

Seladon’s resolve finally breaks. She feels her head hang, but desperately tries to keep her bottom lip from quivering. Tightening her hands into fists, she stands. “What has happened has happened. I cannot do anything about that. But I will not sit here and bicker with you.” She feels every muscle on her face tighten as they try to hide her emotions.

“We will send the paladins in pursuit of Brea. They will bring the shard back to us and we can continue as planned.”

“And perhaps you will learn to control your sister’s rash actions.” The words are reprimanding, tough. Seladon tries her best to keep her cool.

“Yes, Maudra Laesid.”

Before anything else can be discussed, a great rumble disturbs the room. The lights shake above them, sending down a flutter of dusts and webs to the council chambers. All share a look of confusion, moving in a congregation toward the doors. “_What is it?_” one asks. “_Is it the Skeksis?_” Another questions.

Seladon is the first to make it to the doors, throwing them open and letting the dim surroundings fill with light. It takes a few seconds before her eyes adjust to the brightness but they do just in time for three landstriders to soar past them. They move so quickly that they cause Seladon’s hair to fly around her, her garments dancing wildly.

“Hi - yah!” The rider yells atop the landstrider to speed the creature up. It bellows in response, a low and resonating sound that meets her ears.

“Who the . . . ?”

“They are our landstriders!” Announces Maudra Mera, aghast. “Who has stolen them?” Narrowing her eyes, she catches sight of a particular dark haired rider. “Kylan! _What on Thra are you doing?_”

He’s not the only rider to be recognised, as Maudra Laesid’s already wrinkled face becomes more shrivelled. Her frown deepens, eyes intense. “Gurjin. Naia. Come back at once!” she orders.

It is only Gurjin who hears, turning to face his mother. “We’re going after Brea.” He shouts over the loud running. “We’ll be safe, I promise!”

Seladon gasps. How did they know? She barely has time to question as the other Maudras around her shout for their return. And while she knows that she too could encourage it, she finds herself speechless. A strange trust for the three gelfling sits within her. They are Brea’s friends, after all. Perhaps they’ll know exactly where she is. So Seladon holds her tongue and watches them ride away.

“Well,” She begins after a long, awkward pause between the gelfing around her. “Looks like I’m not the only one who can’t control gelfling in their clans.” With that, she lifts her head high in the air and begins to walk away.

* * *

The landstriders run with zest, weaving through the forest so quickly that Kylan has to hold tightly in order not to be thrown from the creature. As he trails behind Gurjin and his creature, Kylan feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins. In spite of their current debacle, he manages a small smile. Riding the landstrider is awfully freeing. The cold winds sweeps through his hair and his stomach fills with butterflies with every leap it takes, but he feels good. He feels alive.

Peering over his shoulder, he catches sight of Naia. Her expression offers more intensity than his own. “Where exactly are we going?” She shouts as loud as she can over the quick movement of the creatures. Her own brains whip around her features as she speaks.

“She went south.” He replies, eyes concentrated in said direction.

Gurjin takes the opportunity to slow, pulling up beside Kylan. “Why do you think she ran away?”

He shakes his head, unsure. Brea has always seemed exceptionally level headed to Kylan, so he’s really at a loss as to why she’d take such a risk. “I don’t know.” Kylan admits softly. “But she seemed like she had a plan . . . let’s find her before anything bad comes of this.”

And with that, they quicken the landstriders and ride steadily in the distance in hopes of discovering the fleeing princess.

* * *

The dark woods have taken on a more sinister feel for Rian.

As he moves further down the dim path, his body fills more and more with dread. Where there had once been life there is silence. No leaves shake in the winds. There _are_ no winds to be felt. Instead, a cold chill fills the lifeless air. “Deet!” He calls her name once more, a fruitless attempt. The branches and vines are beginning to become too entwined – they twist and turn in a mass of spirals and jagged edges.

Rian attempts to push through. They rustle and crack with his movement, scraping unceremoniously over his skin. “_Ow_.” He winces as one scrapes across his neck. Another snags in his hair, tugging him back.

“Come on!” Rian grumbles in frustration, wishing he had brought a weapon with him so he could merely cut through the obstruction. He tries his best to squeeze through, frowning and painfully pushing through the fearsome foliage.

Eventually, it becomes all too much convoluted mess.

And Rian has to retreat.

He does so regretfully, wishing he was as small as a fizzgig so he could simply slip through with ease. As he retraces his steps, he lets his head hang low. In the morning the party begins their journey to the Crystal Castle and with that he can only put his hope in healing the crystal and stopping the darkening.

He walks and walks and walks.

His legs ache from the effort. Still, he trudges on, lost in his own thoughts.

Then, he hears a voice calling out into the trees who almost seem to whisper back.

It’s familiar and he’s surely that it calls out _his_ name. Sucking in a breath, Rian peers around. In another desperate bit of hope, he calls her name out again. “Deet?”

No reply.

But he swears that he sees a flash of blonde hair amongst the mass of dark and dense trees. His name fills the air once again and Rian moves in a flash. He follows the sound with determination, eyes widening optimistically.

That’s when he spies the figure, blonde braids sweeping around the cloak that hides the majority of them. He watches, speechless, for a few seconds. But with a sinking heart he realises that it isn’t Deet simply from the way they carry themselves. Still, he moves forward. They have been calling his name after all.

When they turn, his mouth drops open in surprise. “Brea!” He closes the gap between them in a few short strides.

She seems please to see him too, her warm eyes brimming with relief. She drops the hood and brings him into a tight embrace. “Oh, Rian. I’ve been looking for you for hours!”

“For me?” He is taken aback. A small frown crawls onto his lips. “Is everything okay at Stone – in – the – Wood? Are _you_ okay?” Rian looks up and down at her, trying to see if there is any reason to be worried but other than the expression of concern she wears the Princess seems just as usual.

“Stone – in – the – Wood is fine.” She answers curtly.

He zones in on her amber eyes, finding something lurking behind. If everyone is okay then why on Thra would she follow him so far out into the woods?

“What is going on? Why did you come here?”

“I went to your house.” She squeaks, face paling. “But you weren’t there . . . I expected that you were here again looking for Deet. So I took some supplies and came to find you. It would have been sooner but the trees all look the same and I fear I might have gone in circles . . .”

Rian stares at her, then softly shakes his head. “But _why_ did you come after me?”

She sighs, looking down at something concealed beneath her cloak. He watches with intrigue as it moves under the material and the shard is suddenly revealed in her hand. “The shard.” He nods, still captivated by it just as he is every time. “You still have it?”

“Yes,” she confesses, voice airy. It hangs between them as she struggles to form her next words. “I want to go to the Crystal Castle.”

“_Oh_.” He tilts his head. “But you’re going to Ha’rar with Seladon.”

She bristles and turns away from him. “Not if I have anything to do about it.”

Rian takes a step forward. “What do you mean?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“_What_?”

“The two of us can take the shard to the Castle and heal the Crystal.” She faces him once more, expression holding the same determination that he’s seen many times from her before. “I want to help save Deet.”

He probably should give her words more thought than he does, considering how dangerous a quest it is for the both of them, but Rian instantly finds himself nodding in agreement. He has questions, _lots of them _– they can wait for another time. “Okay.” He says, “Together then.”

* * *

The rain sets in half way through the journey.

Kylan clings to the sodden fur on the landstrider but he doesn’t let the weather dampen his purpose. Not long after, the three come to a slow halt to allow their creatures rest. By now they are far enough away from the camp that they are sure they won’t be pursued, not that he is particularly bothered about the repercussions.

The other two, however . . .

“You said that you told Mother we were leaving!” Naia aims in her brother’s direction accusingly.

“And I did.”

She tenses. “_Before_ we left.” With a noise close to a hiss, she angrily continues trying to spark a fire. “Mother is going to be livid.”

Gurjin moves forward to help her with the stone in her hand but one glare from her and he backs away. Kylan, a safe distance from the pair, watches with a small smile.

“Can we please talk about something else?” Gurjin tries.

“No.”

With that, she moves into a stony silence. Gurjin sighs, softly padding over to check on the landstriders and clearly avoid the wrath of his sister. Kylan takes pity on his other friend and joins him. Here, the canopy above them seems to stop most of the rain dropping through and only the odd few droplets fall to his head.

“She will be over it soon.” He insists as he stands beside him.

“I hope so.” Gurjin throws a glance over his shoulder. Naia seems happier now that she has the fire lit but her face remains troubled. “Otherwise this is going to be a _long_ journey.” He gently strokes the landstrider he had been riding. “Why do you think Brea took the shard?”

Strangely, Kylan feels his heart jump slightly at the mention of her name. Putting that to the back of his mind, he gives a shrug. “I do not know.” He gives a thoughtful pause, “but just like Rian, she cares for Deet. Perhaps she wants to help.”

Gurjin nods, then frowns. “She shouldn’t be facing the Skeksis alone.” He shudders at his own memories. “If they captured her . . .”

Kylan quickly pushes that thought from his mind, knowing just as they all do how harsh the Skeksis are. He remembers when Brea had escaped from the Castle previously, an injured sister in tow. She had been lucky then – not all of the gelfling had made it out alive. Sighing, he closes his eyes. “Let’s not dwell on that Gurjin. We will find her.”

After a moment’s pause, he adds. “And besides, if something did happen to Brea . . . she is clever. I’m sure she would find a solution.” His words are laced with adoration, causing Gurjin who observe him with a tilted head. Kylan blinks, clearing his throat. “I’m going to go start cooking.” He changes the subject.

Naia has simmered down as he joins her. The pair work with the odd comment shared between them, soon joined by Gurjin.

Even with the mood lighter, their journey hangs over them like a rain cloud.

“Where do you think she went?” Gurjin asks later that night.

Kylan sighs, heart heavy. “I fear she is headed to the Castle alone.”

After a drawn out pause, Naia nods. “Then we go to the Castle too.”

* * *

Seladon sits on the camp’s edge, ignoring the fact that the cold rain sinks heavier into her garments with each passing second. For once, she doesn’t care. There are too many troubles to ponder over than some silly wet clothes.

The gelfing sighs.

She looks out into the distance. The grey clouds absorb all the light from the suns, leaving little for them down below. Winds pull and push at the expanse of trees and she watches the other creatures flee for cover.

But not her.

Laying her chin sadly on her hand, she lets herself get lost in her emotions. Mainly she thinks about Brea. The feeling of betrayal is hot, scorching her very insides. Although she fights it, it brings back the memories of rejection she had often felt on a daily basis. Seladon had thought that things had changed between her and her sister, but clearly not.

Soon, her tears join the rain. She is thankful there is nowhere there to witness them, to witness _her_ in a moment of weakness.

All the years of training could never have prepared her for such difficult times. How is she supposed to lead a gelfling resistance when there is distrust sewn against her? Granted, it is justly so. She knows how her path had oh so quickly gone awry and yet there is nothing she can do about that.

She is reminded daily of her actions. From the other gelfling, the other Maudras.

Even herself. Every time she closes her eyes she sees the General striking down her mother.

_It’s all your fault_

Those words had been uttered at her sister, but now play over and over in Seladon’s mind.

Squelching of boots in the sticky mud causes her head to snap up, spinning to find its source. The gelfing in front of her comes to a half, unsurely. Over one of his eyes in a clumsy eyepatch of worn cloth, cuts covering the rest of his face. She recognises him from the battle of Stone – in - the –Wood and the Castle itself. She also remembers how he had fought valiantly.

“All Maudra?” he questions.

She climbs to her feet and straightens out her skirts, even as they fall heavily with the rain. “Yes?” She musters the strongest voice she can.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were sat alone.” He starts, “I just wanted to make sure that everything is okay.”

“Everything is fine.” She lies, “thank you for your concern.”

He nods, but doesn’t leave. Seladon eyes him in interest.

“It is raining, you know.” He points out, almost on the edge of humour.

“Yes.” She smiles, “I know. I just . . . I was merely thinking.” Peering down at her appearance, she suddenly realises that his concern is just and she does look quite the mess.

“That will do you no good if you stay out in this weather.” He peers upwards with a small frown, then takes a brave step toward her. He gestures not too far from where she’d been sitting, a pile of gobbles lie patiently awaiting an ambush. “Even the floor offers deadly steps for those who don’t know where they’re going.” Seladon blinks, looking to him in surprise. “Allow me to escort you back to your home.”

She finds herself accepting his offer with the smallest of smiles. Just for a moment, her troubles seem awfully far away.

* * *

“And what about the others?” Rian asks. “The Maudras had chosen who they wanted to go on this quest.” He is somewhat filled in with the events of the last few hours, each answer leaving him more and more unsettled.

“I don’t know.” She answers honestly. “After I spoke to Mother Aughra, I knew that I needed to leave as quickly as possible to find you.”

They walk side by side, both now cloaked and protected from the freezing rain drops falling upon them. Brea had brought a bag of supplies of Rian’s. At first he’d been a little annoyed that she had practically broken into his house, but now he is exceptionally thankful.

“And what exactly did she say?”

“Not as much as I would have liked.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“She didn’t know if healing the Crystal would stop the darkening . . . or exactly _how_ we heal the Crystal.” Brea’s forehead creases together, lips taut. She can feel the shard tucked away safely in her care, its burden a heavy thing to carry.

“Oh.”

She eyes him slowly, watching the way that his shoulders slump. His skin is sickly white, eyes hollow and dark. Brea feels a tug at her heart for her friend. “Rian.” She frowns. “You look _exhausted_. When was the last time you slept?”

Rian appears surprised at her change of subject, shuffling uncomfortably under her intense gaze. “A day or two . . .” he guesses, eyes closing. “I can’t quite remember.”

She gasps. “You need to take care of yourself,” Brea insists, her walk coming to a halt. She kindly reaches out and takes hold of his shoulder. “Deet wouldn’t want to see you like this.” His eyes widen at the mention of his friend and she feels her own narrow in interest.

“But I _can’t_ sleep. I try, I really do. Every time I close my eyes, I just worry about her.”

“Look, Rian. I know that this is hard, especially for you.”

He looks to her dumbly. “Especially for me?”

“Considering everything.”

Rian clearly doesn’t understand because he peers back to her with a blank expression.

Groaning, Brea puts her other hand on his free shoulder. “Considering the way you and Deet feel about one another.” His head shoots up with a burst of energy so fast that it causes Brea to jump.

“_What?_”

She finds herself rolling her eyes at him. “You don’t exactly hide it, Rian.” He at least decides to look sheepish and she takes the opportunity to carry on her speech. “Hence the reason why I think she would want you to look after yourself. If we have any chance of saving her, we need to be strong.”

Sighing, he gives an eventual nod. “I suppose you’re right.”

Brea gently leans forward and pulls Rian in for a hug, sensing he is in need of some comforting. She knows the pain he must be feeling, and she hopes she can do everything in her power to free him from it.

“Come on,” she tells him, “let’s find some shelter and rest for the night. I’ll tell you everything else about what Mother Aughra said. And tomorrow, we begin our journey to the Castle.”

He nods his agreement and together the pair ready themselves for the long night ahead. The rain doesn’t retreat but they do manage to find some refuge from it beneath a hollow tree. They huddle together until they each fall into a restless slumber.

* * *

On the other side of the Dark Wood, the gelfling they both fret over continues the everlasting journey.

Deet is _tired_.

The Darkening pulses through her very veins, illuminating them that deep purple that she’s come to hate. It becomes stronger inside her with each passing moment, seeming to entwine with her very soul.

But she still fights.

She won’t let the Skeksis win, not if it means protecting her friends. Protecting _Rian_.

She now sees the signs of Thra’s own darkening everywhere that she walks, from the soil to the rivers that run like the world’s very own veins.

And with each creature she comes across, she can’t help but . . . well . . . _help_. Even as the power inside of her tries to take hold, she cannot let the creatures of Thra suffer. So she takes on their burden and it becomes her own. Still, watching the life return to their eyes is worth it.

“_Ah_!” She cries out as a jolt hits her. She feels the intensity of the darkening grow, only for it to dull again. Like some sort of power surge. As it had, she had felt the Crystal cry out to her. What it had said, she doesn’t know, but Deet feels its pain even now.

She blinks back into her reality, eyes becoming downcast as she sees the decaying world surrounding her. She had only just been able to explore topside and now it withers at her touch. That very thought is enough to break her heart.

Even in the darkness, a creature appears. She sees the all too familiar purple eyes, its screeching noises scratching her insides uncomfortably. As soon as it catches sight of Deet, it lunges for the gelfling who simply holds up a hand as she has time and time again. 

It halts in its actions, those eyes glued to hers.

“Here,” she speaks, “let me help you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I can tell already that this fic is going to involve a lot of angst, so sorry about that! Hopefully you're still enjoying it and from now on things should pick up that little bit more.

Brea feels one foot shuffle in front of the other as they trudge along. Rian leads the way, his head high as he navigates through the trees that honestly all look exactly the same to her. In their silence, she finds herself becoming lost to her thoughts.

As always, her brain feels like it’s firing much faster than it’s supposed to, with theories and worries darting in and out every which way. With it brings an onslaught of emotions. At the forefront of her mind is Seladon . . .

She wonders if she’s angry at her. If she misses her. Even if she thinks about her.

The thought of her sister displaying much emotion is foreign to Brea, who all too often experienced the rule following, loyal older sister that had no time for fun or feelings. She had only ever cared about her duty. _She still does._ Brea feels guilt clutch at her heart at one of her last discussions with her sister, demanding that she go to Ha’ar with her.

Her mind is torn is two, heart joining it. Is this the right decision? She insists that it is even knowing truly well that she is no fighter. She could not single - handily take on a Skeksis, not like Tavra tried to. She sucks in a shuddery breath as Tavra comes back into the equation. How she misses her . . . just like Seladon must do.

Before she knows it she feels a couple of tears poking from the corner of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Brea’s footsteps slow. Arms wrapped tightly around herself, she tries to control the assault of feelings she experiences but they are all too strong. And she’s never been very good at hiding her emotions.

More tears follow the first; they move with swift speed down her skin as they pave the way for others.

So consumed in her own head, Brea doesn’t realise as Rian comes to a halt. He pauses, unsure, and then turns to set his concerned gaze upon her. “Brea.” He begins softly, backtracking on himself. He puts away his sword that he’d had outstretched as he walked, frowning. “What is wrong? Why are you crying?”

“It’s . . .” She pauses, shaking her head, “it’s silly, really. I’m just thinking of my sisters. I miss Tavra so much and now I feel like I’ve lost Seladon.” Brea closes her eyes, rubbing at the tears haphazardly.

He lowers his head. “Oh. I see.”

“What if Seladon thinks that I’ve abandoned her?” There is a pause as she digests the words, eyes widening slightly with a panic. “I _have_ practically abandoned her.”

“Brea –”

“We’re all each other have left . . . and I left her with just a note.”

“You had no choice.” He insists.

_I did. _“She wanted me to go to Ha’rar with her. Well, more _commanded_ it of me.” Brea sniffles, sadness washing over her. “I was supposed to help her rule. She kept saying that I was the heir to the Vapran throne after her.” She takes a moment to look down at her appearance, soaking in the ripped and muddied clothing. “I didn’t want to go with her, so when I spoke to Mother Aughra and she said what she did I just left.”

Rian is silent as she speaks, face thoughtful.

“All I left for Seladon was a note. I didn’t even explain it to her – I guess I knew that she still wouldn’t want me to go to the Castle.”

He nods. “I’m sure she understands. You want to help Deet, like all of us do.”

Brea shakes her head, frowning. “That didn’t change her mind. Seladon is stubborn . . . once she has made a decision that is it.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Rian speaks softly, raising a hand to softly squeeze her shoulder. “You did what you thought was right, even if it was a hard decision.”

“Do you think Seladon hates me for it?” She questions, a fresh batch of tears threatening to fall.

“I don’t know. But she’s your sister, I am sure she will understand.”

“I just . . . I couldn’t not do this, Rian. My place isn’t in Ha’rar. I can feel it in my heart. It’s helping my friends and saving Thra. Just like Mother Aughra said.”

Even as sadness looms over them, he manages a smile. “I know. And I’m glad for your company, Brea. I believe is us – in all of the gelfling. We can heal the Crystal.”

Brea nods, seeming to absorb some of his confidence. “You’re right. And the sooner I stop moping, the quicker we will get to the Castle. How far away is it by foot?”

“Maybe a day or so now. First though . . . we need a plan.”

“Right.”

He turns back to the direction they were headed, staring forward with an intense stare. “The Skeksis will be on high alert, I’m sure.” He suddenly pauses, thinking, “And there are a lot more of them than there are of us.”

Brea gives a dejected sigh. “Perhaps we should have brought more gelfing with us. I was in such a hurry and I didn’t want to alert anyone as to what I was doing.” 

“Hmm, it will be easier to sneak in with just the two of us. As long as we have the shard, we can do this.”

“You know ways to sneak in?” She asks curiously as they begin to walk once more. The only trace of the forgotten tears are her puffy, pink eyes and stained cheeks.

He gives a confident smile. “I lived in the Castle all of my life. I know a hundred ways to sneak in.”

“Good.” She dares a smile of her own. “Because we might need them.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, All Maudra, but there has been no sign of your sister.” The paladin gives a curt nod, face slightly winced as he awaits her response.

Seladon’s expression remains unscathed, though inside the news feels like a stab to the heart. She pauses, giving a moment’s pause. All eyes are on her, intensely so, and when she speaks she does so slowly and strongly. “And what of the three riders who left into the woods?”

“The landstrider tracks lead east. We are in pursuit of them but with the rain we may possibly lose our trail.”

“Well then, be swift.” She insists. “They may already know Brea’s whereabouts and we need to bring the Princess and the shard back to safety.”

Her words leave little room for questioning and they leave with a simple nod.

“That’s it then?” Maudra Laesid asks impatiently, “we just keep on searching?”

“She can’t have gone far.” Seladon answers back. “Brea was on foot. And despite her recent decisions I know she wouldn’t do anything jeopardise anything with the shard.”

“Hmmf. The best hope is that my children find her. At least then she will have some sort of protection.”

She’s trying to get a rise out of her, Seladon knows, and it takes a lot of willpower to bite her tongue. With a sickeningly sweet voice, she nods, “yes, let us hope for that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for my travels.”

“You still plan to travel to Ha’rar?! With the shard missing!”

Seladon bristles. “I have spent too much time at Stone – in – the – Wood already. Ha’rar needs me.” Her words are succinct enough and her tone severe enough that she is allowed to leave without further questioning. She does, however, hear the whispers that follow her from the council chambers.

Her expression is unwavering as she crosses over the path in slow strides. She’s almost at her carriage when she spies the lumbering movements of Mother Aughra. Her walking stick bangs against the ground noisily, scraping the rocks with a horrid noise. Seladon turns, watching her curiously. She wears a heavy cloak now, bags looped around her shoulders and hanging off the ripples of clothes.

“You’re leaving too?” She asks loudly, surprised. Mother Aughra had made no indication of her plans, leaving Seladon knotting her forehead in confusion.

Aughra snaps her head up, clearly exerted from the walking she’s already done. “There is nothing left to do here.” She speaks.

“What does that mean?”

“Aughra has done what she must.”

Narrowing her eyes, she observes her under great scrutiny. Aughra has been the great puppeteer of the resistance, guiding and teaching behind the scenes, but now that the Skeksis are hiding away what could she possibly be referring to?

“I must go now.” She insists. “Bye bye.”

Seladon steps closer, raising a hand. “But wait –”

“Go back to ha’rar, Seladon. That is where you fate is. Lead your people.”

She shakes her head in confusion. “What are you talking about, Mother Aughra? What have you done?”

Her gaze is sad. “What I must.” She places both hands atop of walking stick, staring right into Seladon’s eyes. “I guide gelfling to where they must go, where Thra wants them to go.”

“I don’t unde –” She stops herself half way through before realisation settles in. “Brea.” She whispers, “_Where_ have you sent her?” Her voice is accusing, eyes narrowed. She feels anger surging inside of her, threatening to escape.

“Bah! Calm yourself, Seladon. I only told the princess what she wanted to here.”

“She could get hurt!”

“You think Aughra doesn’t know this!” Her wrinkled face carries far more worries that it had moments ago. “You think I want to send childling to Castle? Hmmmf! I do not. But Thra needs Brea to go on this quest.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Seladon feels her façade crack. “I needed her too.”

“You are strong, Seladon. Stronger than most.”

She finds herself looking down for fear that Mother Aughra might see the tears swimming in her eyes. “At least tell me that she’ll be safe.”

There is an impossibly long pause.

Seladon hears Mother Aughra nearing, then placing a hand upon her shoulder. “Your sister is strong, too. Aughra doesn’t know her future, but she believes in gelfling.” Seladon nods, sucking in a breath before she lunges forward into Aughra’s open arms. The embrace that follows is strong and welcoming. She knows that she could stay there indefinitely if given the chance, for it would mean that she doesn’t have to deal with any more troubles.

But duty calls as ever and she has to tear herself away from the warm pair of arms.

Before she makes to leave, Aughra surprises her with another moment of affection. Smiling softly, the woman gently cups hold of her chin and looks upon her face. “Forgive yourself.”

The words come as a surprise to her, but Mother Aughra makes to leave before she can even register them.

* * *

Deet shudders as she walks, fingers trembling with the cold. If it wasn’t for the darkening tainting her skin with purple, she’s sure that her hands would be blue right about now.

She doesn’t know where she is. Every inch of these woods looks the same to her as the last and when she looks to the brothers in the sky she finds their glare burns her eyes. Yet somethings tugs at her, guiding her to a destination unknown.

Her head hangs low on her shoulders as she thinks of the days to come. Is the darkening leading her somewhere? And if so does it have sinister consequences? The fear is all too much for one to bear.

She misses her friends. Hup, Brea . . . _Rian_. Deet can see his face the last time they’d been together, the look of heartbreak he’d displayed. All she’d ever wanted was to help people, not cause them pain.

A noise breaks her from her depressing thoughts. Deet’s eyes go impossibly large as she spies a small creature poking up from underneath the moss. “Oh.” She perks up, stepping closer to the movement. Its three eyes stare back at her curiously and as she crouches the animal trills curiously. “Hello there.” She tilts her head, freeing a smile onto her lips. “I’m Deet.”

It’s almost relieving to see something unscathed by the darkness surrounding her and she giggles as it begins to crawl out of its hidey hole even further. The green, messy fur on its back hides it perfectly within the moss, so much so that she watches in amazement. “We could be friends!” she suggests excitedly before adding sadly, “it’d be nice to have a friend with me again.”

There is a moment of hesitation in which an odd sound escapes its throat as it ponders her. It dares to inch closer, sniffing the air with a pair of large nostrils. “Come on,” Deet encourages it softly with a voice light as air. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Deet laughs as its whiskers graze along her fingers momentarily before the creature suddenly freezes. Eyes widening and fur standing on end, it recoils from her touch and hisses toward her. Her expression plummets, heart sinking with it. “No.” Deet shakes her head. “Come back . . . I –”

But she can’t do anything as it scurries off for something takes over her body. Deet knows this nauseous feeling awfully well. It consumes her in a matter of seconds until she is practically paralysed with it. All as quickly as it comes, an intense light blinds her vision. She gasps for breath that doesn’t come, hands dropping to the floor so that she can support herself. Her eyes close for a brief moment before shooting open again as she’s plagued my more visions from the Sanctuary tree’s powers. 

The first thing she sees a village.

For a moment she almost mistakes it for Stone – in – the – Wood until she realises its subtle differences. It lays empty, devoid of life or gelfling. Not only that, but she sees broken doors, weapons abandoned and fire rising from the roofs of what were once homes. Creatures fly away from the chaos, their wings flapping violently to carry themselves high into the air. Their screeching is so shrill that it hurts her ears.

But she doesn’t get times to dwell on it as the vision skips to another. Her heart skips a beat as she spies a familiar dark haired gelfling, dragged in the arms of the skeksis. “_No_!” she hears herself calling, but it sounds as though it’s deep under water. Those purple veins blur her eyes once more until Rian disappears altogether and she’s left with one final imagine.

It’s the strangest of scenes, with a vast amount of water. More than she’s ever seen in her life. It crashes and jumps all over the place, as far as the eye can stretch.

As quickly as it appeared, it vanishes from her mind. Deet stumbles against the floor, struggling to recover from the vision. Everything blurs in and out, darkness filling the corners of her eyes. When she does manage to focus them, she looks straight down to her hands. “Oh no.” She breathes, watching helplessly as the energy of the darkening seems to flow from her fingers before rooting in the ground.

It spreads at a scary pace, dispersing like a disease that moves ruthlessly forward.

The moment she truly panics is when the very ground beneath her rattles in response. Beneath her hands the darkening corrupts the soil and rocks, damaging them to the point of no return. To her horror, it doesn’t stop there. The infected ground splits away as the world around her rumbles – even the sky seems to shake.

“No.” Deet shakes her head, lifting her hands to stare at what she’s caused. “No, no, no, _no_.”

* * *

Their swords clash in a might _clang_ before both drop them back down. Gurjin is faster, swinging his up again before Kylan even has the chance to respond. When it flies toward him he stumbles backwards, just barely managing to keep his footing. _Come on Kylan_, he thinks, _you can do this_. With a determined “_ah_!” he lunges toward him once more until a noise startles them both.

He snaps his head in the direction of their landstriders who bellow and swing uneasily on their long legs. “What’s wrong with them?” Gurjin slowly lowers his weapon, their practise fight forgotten. He shares Kylan’s frown. Naia, who had been lay with her head rested on a fallen tree stump, slowly opens her eyes and scrutinises the creatures’ behaviour.

“What the . . .?” She starts, voice low.

But she isn’t given the chance to question further.

The ground beneath them shudders and shakes, as though rumbling angrily. While Naia bolts upright with her knife ready for defence, Kylan and Gurjin steady their feet on the ever moving floor. Above them, the trees rattle with fear, shedding themselves of their few leaves in a panicked fit. 

It is deafeningly loud and each gelfling feels the movement right through to their core. Kylan looks to the landstriders who buck and lift their wobbly legs with a struggle.

And all as quickly as it came, the quaking disappears.

It leaves their ears ringing and their hearts pulsing. Most of all, it leaves them _confused_. “What was that?” Naia asks ferociously, jumping to her feet and gradually lowering the dagger in the hand. It doesn’t get put away though, Kylan notes. Just like them, she is on edge.

“The ground moved!” Gurjin recalls in shock, staring down as though he cannot believe it has finally stilled.

“We know. We saw it too.” Naia deadpans.

He shoots her a look. “I was just saying.”

“Well, that’s not helping.”

“Uh . . . guys. . .” Kylan speaks out as the two begin to bicker earnestly.

“_What_?” The twins turn in unison and look to Kylan who has stepped forward slightly, hand raised as he frowns.

“The landstriders.” He starts breathlessly.

They share his eye lines, watching as the terrified creatures take no time to sit and ponder the last few minutes. Instead, they run hastily in the opposite direction to the gelfling, mud and twigs flicking up from beneath their feet.

Kylan feels his heart plummet down toward his stomach.

* * *

Rian stares in shock as the world around them returns to normal. He breathlessly moves to face Brea, who steadies herself with a tree trunk. “What just happened?” His eyes are wide, voice just as shaky as the ground had been moments ago.

Bewildered, Brea finally manages to stop gasping and returns his gaze. In her hand she clutches tight hold of the shard; he breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing it safe. “I have no idea.” Brea responds, “I’ve never read about anything like this before.”

“You haven’t?”

He looks down at the earth beneath his feet as though he doesn’t trust that he’s finally still. Then once more lifts his eyes. Thra is silent round them, recovering from the massive quakes that had plagued over the world.

It feels as though the air is being pulled from his lungs. “It’s so quiet.” He observes, trying to hide the way his voice breaks ever so subtly. Rian hears footsteps approach and turns to see Brea standing beside him. Worry lines lie in the corner of her eyes and the sides of her lips tug downwards in a permanent frown.

“It’s like . . . Thra is ill.”

His own eyes swim with worry. “What if the darkening caused this?” Rian swallows thickly, shoulders slumped. Then fear strikes his body cold, sucking in sharply. “What if the Skeksis managed to do this?” If they created the darkening, surely they have other ways of corrupting Thra for their own benefit. And now that they’ve skulked back to the Castle he is sure they must be plotting away.

Then another thought jumps into his mind, one that is somehow far more harrowing.

“What if it was somehow Deet?”

Brea is uncharacteristically short of an answer. Instead, he feels her hand slip into his and give it a tight, comforting squeeze. “Then,” she begins, determined, “we need to hurry up.”

Rian looks down at her, catching the look in her amber eyes. They somehow manage to seep some hope back into him, although it’s quickly overshadowed by the urgency of their situation.

* * *

Seladon steps slowly back into the throne room, eyes zoning in on the small bits of rubble that still remain. They surround the newly fixed throne while sits central to the room. She nears it, her steps echoing in a lonely chorus around the vaulted ceilings.

As she nears it, she gives pause. Her fingers delicately run along the stone, slowing as she lets her thoughts consume her. This building is where it had all started . . . the dreamspace, her mother’s death, her self – coronation. The sigh that she gives is regretful, heart heavy as she moves to sit in the spot.

It feels different this time. There is little pride in this spot now, just a heavy burden.

The room feels awfully empty and she longs for the noise and murmur of many gelfling. Without thinking, she turns her head to the left as though hoping to catch sight of her sisters standing beside her.

She moves back to her feet and away from the throne. Without thinking Seladon begins to pace, trying to figure out her first move now that she’s in Ha’rar once more. She knows all too well that there is always work to be done and she fears that it will be even more with their recent events.

A knock on the door causes her to jump. She sighs, forcing herself to stand tall with her chin held high. “Come in.”

Two paladins enters, their steps in unison. The first wears an undecipherable expression while the other almost seem apologetic. “All Maudra,” he bows. “I apologise for disturbing you, but there is a line of gelfling outside the gates who request an audience.”

Seladon lets a frown slip onto her expression, peering out of the window into the dark hues of the night sky. “It is late,” she begins, “tell them that they will be seen tomorrow . . .”

“Of course.” The other nods, both of them beginning to turn on their heels.

She watches them retreat before moving to the window to look for herself. Her eyes widen as she spies the spiralling line that leads far back into the markets. Gelfling of all clans waits outside in the freezing cold – families, mates, even young childlings swaddled in blankets.

Waiting for _her_.

Suddenly she’s wracked with guilt. These are her people now and who is she to turn them down because she’s weary from her journey? Without even thinking Seladon sets into a brisk walk. For a moment, she even borders on running. She throws open the doors and heads towards her paladins. “Wait!” she calls out.

They both turn, surprise evident in their body language. Seladon tries her best to regain the poise and self-assurance that she’s been taught since her own childhood. “Yes, All Maudra?”

She clears her throat, “tell the gelfling . . . that I will see them now.” She makes to turn before another thought pops into her head. “And make sure they all have food and blankets to help them with the cold.”

“Oh! Yes.” Though surprised, they seem much happier with that decision. “Right away, All Maudra.”

There is much more of a spring to their step, she notes, and it somehow brings a smile to her lips.

* * *

Elsewhere, where dark trees meet the Crystal Sea, a young couple sit idly as they finish pitching up their tent. Their journey to Stone – in – the – Wood had been long and both are tired, ready for another long day of travelling back to their home in the Spriton Plains.

Ladred gives a leisurely leans backwards against a large, mossy boulder, admiring his work on the tent. He jerks forward as he hits its jagged points and reclines into a more comfortable position. The fire not too far away warms through to his bones and he smiles as he smells the stew bubbling away atop it. “Nel?” He turns his head toward his mate.

She peers up from the needlework she currently concentrates on and looks to him curiously. “What is it?” she demands to know, concentration clearly having been broken.

“Ah, don’t start with that tone.” He gives a lazy smile. “I told you . . . we need to rest.”

“If you hadn’t spent half the day chasing fizzgig around we would have been practically home! But instead we have to camp out here in the cold and the rain!” she bristles, forcing her anger into the innocent piece of cloth in her hands. “Typical, Ladred. Just typical. You always do this!”

“Hmm, okay. I’m sorry.” He knows it’s all too better to apologise that anger her any further. “We’ll get up bright and early tomorrow, I promise.”

“You better.” She is still stiff, her expression taut. “My sister and her mate begin their joining ceremony when the brothers are at their highest point.”

He gives out a quiet groan. “I know, I know.”

“And I don’t want to miss it!”

“Yes, Nel.” She sends him a pointed look. This is where he realises that he could very well be in trouble. Body deflating slightly, he moves from his wonderfully comfortable spot and joins her at her seat. The log pokes harshly at his backside but he doesn’t complain.

Ladred peers down toward the work in her hands, simple in nature but her ornate stitching brings another life to the dress. Nel is either too focused on her work or simply ignoring him. He hopes for the former.

When their world is doused in silence for too long, he leans flush against her and smiles. “It’s beautiful, you know.”

She pauses, then tilts her head to look at him. Her ears twitch almost shyly. “You think so?”

“Oh yes, she’ll love it. It is gorgeous.” Then his eyes take on a rather more devilish demeanour. “Just like you.” Before she can respond he’s pulling her in for a deep kiss, arms wrapping lovingly around his mate.

Nel responds all too keenly until something in her hits the stop button and she tugs away with a soft smile. “Not tonight,” she begins, her own eyes burning. “I have to finish this before the ceremony.”

“You need a break.” He tries his luck once more, hand hovering over the small of her back.

“Oh, you are terrible!” she giggles, stealing another kiss. He lingers, wanting more but she’s already thrown her attention back into the garment at hand.

Dejected, he lets out a small sigh and moves to his feet. Ladred catches sight of the fire, beginning to dwindle and die out in the darkening night. “I’ll go and get some more fire wood then. I won’t be long.”

Her head snaps up. “Don’t go too far.” She insists, voice small.

Ladred catches her with one final kiss, smiling lovingly against her lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay within shouting distance. Love you.”

“Hmm, love you too.”

He quickly heads toward the trees and away from the shore of the ocean. Its waves become quieter and quieter as he trudges forward with a simple torch from the fire. He has to squint but at least he can make out most things. The forest at night is a strange place, he thinks – far from the merriment that had been shared at Stone – in – the – Wood just a few days ago. No, things linger and lurk around him, shadows dancing off the trees and bringing a new life to the Dark Woods.

With the lack of the fire and the drizzle hitting his skin, Ladred shivers. His dark braids fall limp against him, soaked from the earlier travelling. He quickly picks up what branches and wood as he can carry with one hand, working with speed as uneasiness takes over his body.

In the distance, he can still hear the ocean calling out to him, as though assuring him that his camp isn’t too far away. And yet, even that comforting sound doesn’t usurp that of sudden dread. He pauses, breath catching in his throat.

_Something is wrong._

Another noise penetrates his ears. It’s foreign, something that is not from any creature or being in the Dark Wood, he’s sure. Like heavy scuttling, and thick claws clashing together in a horrible symphony.

And it’s coming back from the coast.

“Ahhh!”

His heart seizes, mouth running as dry as the Crystal desert. Ladred drops everything in his hands before taking off full sprint in the direction he’d just came from. “Nel?” he cries out into the night air.

“_Nel_? **NEL**!”

“Help. Please!”

His feet carry him with speed he didn’t know that he had and he moves with adrenaline coursing through his very veins. He can hear some sort of commotion that fills him with fear. All the while, that horrendous clattering continues. Mud flies up at his boots as he runs with force, before he skids to a halt in the opening that they’d called camp.

Once more, the sound of the crashing waves fills his ears when the pounding heartbeat stops. He searches for Nel in a panicked frenzy. “Nel, where are you?” He scrambles toward their bags where his sword lies, taking hold of the weapon tightly. “Nel!” he says again when he sees no sign of her. The strain is his words reveals the heartbreak he’s currently experiencing. “Please, tell me where you are.”

Her calls are no more, or not close enough to hear anyway. He feels hot tears streaming down his face as he runs back and forth in the clearing, hoping to catch some sort of glimpse of his love. He even scours the endless waves with squinted eyes to see if she is lost amongst the sea. Nothing.

Then something catches his eye and he stops, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach.

The dress that she had been working on lays abandoned in the mud. He runs up to it, taking a handful of the ruined material and letting out a shuddery breath. As he stands, he takes in the scene. All of these things . . . thrown around, broken. The tent makes a wobbly stand with large gashes cutting right through the roof. Hands grazing over the rips, he stares in wonder and horror.

“What could have done this?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so things are about to get real bad from here but what is a story without a little angst, hey?

As they sit nestled together on the overhang, Kylan, Naia and Gurjin all keep their attention focused on the Crystal Castle in the distance. The last sun is in its zenith, blazing high above them and burning pleasantly on Gurjin’s skin. He feels unsettled as the Castle meets his line of sight, quickly reminded of the torture that he had suffered under the hands of the skeksis. His bruises throb sympathetically, causing him to wince.

“The Castle.” Kylan says, eyes narrowing and head dropping in the slightest hint of disappointment alongside a small sigh. “Still no sign of Brea.”

“Do you think she managed to get inside?”

Naia’s pulls a face, eyes hard. “Doubtful.” Crouching, she tears her gaze away from the horizon and peers to them. “We could wait here, stake it out.” She throws a look over her shoulder, “the forest will give us protection.”

“What if she got into trouble on the way?” Kylan suddenly questions, his own expression paling. As he turns he accidentally knocks a handful of rocks over the side of the overhang, and Gurjin watches them plummet rapidly to the dry earth below. Kylan’s voice grabs his attention once more. “Do we go back?”

Gurjin feels his features tug into a frown that he shares with Naia. “But where would we go? She could be _anywhere_.”

“That doesn’t mean that we should just stop looking.”

“Kylan, she could be anywhere in all of Thra.”

The Spriton tries another attempt to rally their hopes up once more, “I just have a gut feeling that this is where she came – she had the shard. Going anywhere else just wouldn’t make sense.” He looks between the twins, eyes pleading. “I’ve never asked a lot from you guys, but we need to find her.” Kylan gives a dejected sigh, “and I don’t think that I can do it by myself.”

Naia tsks, her eyes boring down at Kylan in contemplation. Her tan skin shines beneath the sun, thoughtful lines etched under Naia’s eyes. She places a hand on Kylan’s shoulder. “Kylan, we are not going to just abandon you. All I am saying is that we need a plan that is based more on facts than feelings. I know that’s hard considering . . .”

Kylan recoils, eyes flashing wide briefly. “Considering _what?_”

It’s Gurjin who jumps in this time, his voice deep yet delicate like that breeze that wraps around them. “Well, _your_ feelings.” He glances to Naia to affirm, and she simply nods back at him.

“I – I don’t know what you’re suggesting.” Kylan gives a firm shakes of his head. “My actions are solely based on the right thing to do rather than . . . than – _romance_.” He jumps to his feet, much to their protest. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and find some firewood before you two construct any more ridiculous ideas.”

They each watch him disappear into the treeline, his walk frigid and fast. Gurjin turns to his sister, whose eyes dance with amusement. “He really has no idea.” Gurjin chuckles to himself, his own surprise evident.

“Hmmm.”

He tilts his head at Naia. “I thought Mother Aughra said he was supposed to be _wise_.” Gurjin stands himself, stretching out his legs before he begins the dull task of unpacking their supplies.

“Are you still fixated on that?”

He ignores her, but mutters under his breath, “doesn’t seem very wise to me.”

“Leave him alone.” She reprimands

“But it’s so obvious!” He throws a hand up dramatically, then frowns like a childling. “_Wise_.” He repeats with a long shake of his head, “I cannot believe it. Wise Kylan. He gets that, you get fierce and I get nothing . . . absolutely nothing!”

Naia turns her head. “Gurjin?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Rian chews with difficulty on the small vole in his hands. The meat is chewy and tough, and he’s sure that his and Brea’s cooking abilities most _definitely_ have something to do with that. Casting a glance over to her, he finds Brea has barely touched her food and instead follows something in the distance.

When he follows her line of sight, he sees the jagged edges of the Crystal Castle looming over the tree canopy, as though an inescapable presence. He shudders.

“Are you cold?”

He jolts at the sound of her voice, then shakes his head. “No, just . . . thinking.”

Brea nods herself, her amber eyes hooded over with a sleepy gaze. “How much longer do you think it is until we get to the Castle?”

“We should be there before the third brother rises.” He says surely. “There are tunnels beneath the Castle – the skeksis are too big to climb through because they’re only for the armaligs. We can get in through there.”

“And then?”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “We get to the Crystal as fast as we can.”

“Do you think the Skeksis are expecting us to do something?”

Rian gives pause, mouth falling agape slightly. “. . . I don’t know.” He slowly lowers his uneaten food and shifts toward her, “I would expect no less.”

“At least they don’t know that we have the shard – that gives us the element of surprise.” At the mention of the object, Brea slowly reveals the object once more, becoming lost in the magical artefact. Rian too feels that unwavering connection to it, as though it is a part of him.

Even so, he still has to fight a frown from usurping the awe of his expression. “I wish we could have learned more from the Heretic and Wandered – why didn’t they just tell us that the shard was in the glaive the whole time?”

“Maybe . . .” Brea tries, biting her lower lip in thought. “Maybe they wanted us to figure it out for ourselves.” Her fingers curl protectively around the shard, just as they have done the entire time he’s seen her with it. “Maybe it was all a test or . . . or . . . maybe they were just sending us on a wild goose chase.”

He scrunches up his face. “A wild goose chase?”

Brea emits a gentle chuckle. “It’s an expression.” She doesn’t give even of them very long to dwell on her answer, for she begins forming questions of her one. “Do you think we should have gone to them first instead of traversing straight toward the Castle? Or I could have used the library in Ha’rar to search for the shard. Surely some of the tomes mention it!” Then her shoulder slump, wracked with an intensifying guilt. “And maybe we should have travelled to the Circle of the suns for Hup. Do you think he’s okay? What if he thinks we’ve abandoned him?”

Her spiralling words start to make his head throb, so he feels she must be feeling pretty much the same. Reaching out a hand, he places it on her arm and calls out her name.

“Huh?” Brea snaps her head toward him.

“Who can say what the right thing to do is?” He asks with a shrug.

“But maybe I did rush –”

“You did it because you were worried for Deet . . . just like I am.” He peers downwards at the forest floor, "she’s our friend and we want to help her.”

His words seem to have some sort of calming effect on Brea, who throws her shoulders high once more and gives a grateful smile. With her feelings somewhat validated, she returns her attention to the shard. “I suppose we’ve made our decision. Tomorrow we go to the Castle.”

There is an impossibly long pause.

“Are you scared?”

Rian does a double take at her words, surprise evident in his face. In all the time he’s known her, Brea has never struck him as someone to be concerned with fear.

He takes even longer to answer. “Only about failing.”

Brea nods in instant understanding about the implication of his words, moving to wrap Rian in a lasting hug. He practically melts into her embrace, enjoying the feeling of comfort it offers. “We can do this.” She says, even though there is a quiver to her words.

But Rian doesn’t get time to reply as the shard in her hand steals their focus. Without warning it changes from white to purple, almost humming with life. Brea tugs away from him, clasping the object with two hands. “It’s doing it again!” she exclaims in wondrous tone.

“It’s done this before?!”

“Yes.”

“What do you think it means?”

Her eyes reflect those deep purple hues, swirling and churning away. “I don’t know.” Brea whispers.

* * *

Naia sits with her eyes closed, attempting to let herself succumb to a restless sleep. Kylan plays quietly on his firca but she doesn’t complain – the quiet song works as almost a lullaby and moves her deeper into throws of slumber.

She even manages a small smile when Gurjin’s steady voice begins to sing along.

The floor beneath her in hard, rocks pushing into her side and creatures scurrying past the resting gelfling. Despite that, she teeters over the very edge between the world of waking and sleep just as the world goes deadly silent. Frowning, she peeks open one eye to see both Kylan and Gurjin halted in their actions.

With a noise close to a groan, she lifts herself tiredly onto her forearms and speaks. “What is wrong now?”

“Look!” Gurjin points to where the dark sky breaks open, a purple streak cutting through the hazy clouds. When she follows its origin, she finds herself peering down the Castle.

“What do you think is going on?”

Neither have an answer for her and all three become entranced by the scene before them – a mixture of fascination and dread fills the cold night air.

It’s Kylan who breaks the thick silence, lowering his firca into his lap. “What is that coming from the Castle?” His eyes narrow with scrutiny. “It looks . . . like birds.”

The black dots flock in a messy group, as though their wings are fresh and new. The more Naia observes them, the colder her blood runs. As she throws out a nervous breath, she sees it floating in the air before her. In unison, the creatures begin to assemble into a great congregation, filling the sky with a looming darkness.

“Guys . . .”

Kylan and Gurjin still watch with wide eyes.

“**_Guys_**.” She speaks more firmly, tugging her dagger from her belt and wielding it upwards in one quick move.

“Huh?” Gurjin turns around, frowning at her.

She is already on her feet, stomping out the fire hastily with her heavy boots. “They’re coming _this_ way.”

Naia grabs hold of what she can and _runs_.

* * *

Brea’s eyes burn with exertion as she fights against the dwindling light. Beside her, the fire crackles, calling out for more fuel. Her attention, however, remains on her journal balanced delicately on her lap.

With a few finishing touches, she holds it up and admires her work. The image of the glowing shard stares back at her, stealing focus from all the other images in the book. Curiosity taking hold of her, she begins to flick back through her own work, a document of the journey she’s experienced so far. Brea’s heart pangs with upset at the picture she has drawn of Deet, the darkening infecting her very veins.

It’s something she’d seen when dream fasting with Rian and had been unable to stop herself from recreating. It serves as a solid reminder as to _why_ they are in the middle of the Dark woods right now.

Another one catches her eye, of her and many other gelfling singing as they sang together in the Crystal desert. Oh, how things have changed since then. She finds her eyes moving over each and every one of them, before finally settling on Kylan. They linger there for longer than she realizes, only to be broken by Rian calling out her name.

She snaps the journal closed, head shooting up to him. “What did you say?”

“Did you hear that?”

Brea softly shakes her head, joining his gaze as he looks up ahead.

Rian is reaching for his sword, lips pushing together. “It didn’t sound good. Come stand by me.” She does as he says, heart beginning to pick up speed.

They wait for what feels like an eternity.

And just to be sure they wait some more.

This time gives Brea plenty of opportunity to get panicked, her imagination working overtime to turn every tree and plant into dangerous enemies that surround them. She takes hold of her own smaller sword that she’d taken, ready to defend herself if needs be.

Her ears are suddenly invaded by the shrillest of sounds – the screeching is so painful that she has to lift a hand over each ear as they flatten against her head. “Rian!” she shouts, fear pulsating through her body.

Rian’s face pales. “What are _those_?”

She can see now see them too, the source of such a dreadful noise. They move above them as though a dark blanket that drains all and any light from the sky above. Brea can make out the flutter of wings as they awkwardly clamber through the air. Realisation strikes at her heart when she notices each have a piercing set of deep purple eyes.

“Rian.”

“What?”

She pauses, then almost whispers. “Look at their eyes . . .”

And as the pair look up at them, they come to the dreaded conclusion that they too are being watched. Brea clutches her sword with one hand and the shard with her other as the creatures dive down toward them, an attack imminent.

* * *

Kylan struggles for breath as they scramble through the woods, jumping over fallen trees and swerving around the thicket that blocks their way. His lungs cry out for air, while his legs too join in with endless complaints.

But the birds don’t retreat and so he _must_ continue.

Ahead, Gurjin and Naia surge forward, carried by their more athletic builds. They only slow as the midnight birds swoop down and narrowly miss each gelfling with their sharp claws. As they run they swing and swipe upwards, ridding themselves of the miniature monsters. “_Where are we going?!_” Kylan shouts ahead, not sure if he can keep up this pace. He winces as he’s scraped across his forehead before thwarting the animal with a heavy slap.

“We need somewhere where they can’t follow!” Gurjin shouts back.

He wracks his brains, struggling to think with such chaos going on another him.

The smell of death is unmissable, a putrid air now surrounding them alongside a melody of screeching and clumsy flying. He catches sight of glowing purple eyes ahead of him, and continues uneasily.

_Come on, Kylan_. He thinks to himself. _They’re birds . . . they have wings. So where can’t they go? _His arms flail wildly around him, sporadically hitting the black masses that attack relentlessly. One thuds against the ground, splattering messily beneath his feet as his weight settles on it. Kylan pulls a face, disgusted.

Somehow, over all the noise, he hears a trickle in the distance and gasps. “_Water_!”

“_What_?!”

“Get to water. They won’t be able to swim.” His words struggle their way out, throat scratchy and dry as he heaves in air.

Thankfully, the sound of running water becomes more and more clear, meaning that their chase will soon be over. _He hopes. _With one final burst of energy, Kylan powers forward and forces himself to hurry up. He swipes this way and that way, coursing through the forest with determination.

That is, until he hits into something that is definitely a lot bigger than those birds. “_Ahhhh_!”

The collision sends them both flying, hitting the floor with a painful _splat_. Disoriented, pained and damn well _scared_, he hurriedly focuses his eyes on the shape this is _still_ screaming. His panicked breaths join in.

Until he realises _who_ he’s looking at.

“Brea!” he cries out.

They might still be under heavy attack and he’s in an awful lot of pain right now, but happiness envelopes him in a warm hug, if only for a brief few seconds.

Her face softens. “Kylan.” Then her wide eyes move to the other gelfling who have ran back toward them. “Gurjin, Naia. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” Naia states seriously, stabbing at the creatures who dare come near her.

“Hey, what about me?” Rian seems to appear out of nowhere, joining Naia in their defence.

She rolls her eyes, rallying them together. “No time for this. We need to get to the river.”

Kylan suddenly remembers the urgency of the situation and rushes to his feet, moving to help Brea to hers. They rush after the other three who somewhat manage to clear the birds from their path. The only thing he can hear is his own heart and the frantic fluttering of wings around him.

“We’re almost there!” Gurjin’s voice sounds through just barely.

Then Kylan sees it.

The trees thin slightly, mud turning to rugged rock beneath their feet that pokes out this way and that. A steep drop leads down to the flowing water that crashes and surges noisily under the moonlight. “Jump!” Naia cries out, launching herself in the air with a graceful leap before diving under the surface.

Brea suddenly slows, her eyes going impossibly large. He turns, face questioning, “Brea, we need to go.”

“I can’t swim!” she squeaks out, batting away a creature that tangles in her long hair.

“It’s okay, I can.” He reaches to take hold of her trembling hand, “I won’t let you get hurt.”

She doesn’t have much time to debate her options, and soon follows his lead as they near the thundering roars of the river. They are the last to take the leap of faith before they hit the freezing water with a loud gasp. Kylan keeps the tightest of holds onto Brea who kicks and throws her other hand around to try keeping her head above the surface.

“We need to go under!” Gurjin suddenly has hold of his shoulder, moving to help keep Brea steady. “The creatures . . . they can’t follow us there.”

He peers to his friend, hoping that his eyes don’t hold too much fear and then offers a quick series of nods. “Okay, okay.”

“We’ll let the river carry us!” Naia leads, moving easily against the strong flow and still managing to stab one of the black birds out of the air at the same time. “Everyone get underneath in three –”

“_It’s going to be okay_.” Brea whispers to herself, eyes scrunched shut, “_it’s going to be okay_.”

“Two!”

Kylan, without thinking, wraps his arms around her. “I got you.” He says.

“One!”

In unison, all five gelfling gather their lungs full of cold air and disappears under the ever flowing river. Above, Kylan can hear the creatures attempting to penetrate the surface after them only to fail. He peeks open an eye, only to see the blurred shapes of his friends as they are carried away. Gurjin still clings onto his shoulder, keeping him as steady as they can be under the rapids, while he holds Brea for dear life to his chest.

She is an unmoving weight against him, her own eyes screwed shut and cheeks puffed up with her breath.

Soon his chest burns with a lack of air, calling out painfully for him to suck in a breath. If he tries now, they’ll only be greeting with the stinging ice water of the river. So he holds on. They move this way and that, dragged unceremoniously away. They’re moving so quickly that he hardly notices the rock as they approach it, only realising it’s there when the back of his head crashes against it. He cries out, painfully so and watches as the world begins to go fuzzy, sight darkening with every passing second.

Both of his eyes close once more, Kylan welcoming the darkness.

* * *

Rian and Gurjin slowly push the boulder in front of the small cave opening. Moss and vines gather atop it, allowing only a few streaks of moonlight to sneak through. For now, they are safe from their hunters. Inside, Naia finishes with the fire and gently places her top layer of clothes beside it to dry. Her braids hang beside her head, frizzing out as the dry against the flames.

She sighs, casting a glance over to where they’ve lay Kylan with soaked clothes supporting his head. Naia has healed him as much as she can (thankfully it’d only been a flesh wound) but he still has yet to wake and that rattles the Drenchen. Satisfied with the fire, she stands and slowly pads over to his sleeping figure, sitting herself next to Brea.

The Vapran only tears her gaze away from Kylan when Naia speaks. “He will be fine.” She gives a soft smile. “It’s not the first time Kylan has got himself into bother.”

Brea looks at her in questioning, but she doesn’t offer any more explanation.

Instead, she has more burning questions prepared. “What do you think those things were?”

“They came from the Castle of the Crystal,” she confirms, “at first I thought they were birds but they were something else . . . something I’ve never seen before. Their wings were almost crooked.”

She frowns. “And their eyes were purple, just like the Crystal – just like Deet.”

Naia only nods in response, unsure of what to say next. She’s never been the most comforting presence, nor has she ever seemed to have a way with the Princesses of the Vapran clan. So she refrains from anything like that and dares to ask Brea something of her own. Her voice is unusually soft as she speaks. “Why did you take the shard, Brea?”

She stiffens at the question, eyes widening and fully focussing on Naia. “How did you know that I took it?”

“Because we have been trying to find you for almost three days now.” Brea tilts her head in thought. “Kylan saw you leaving and so we followed you. It was either that or the paladins . . . who I’m sure are still on our tail.” Naia feels her eyes darken. “It was not your quest, Brea.”

Brea has the decency to at least look guilty, almost like a scolded childling. “I had to come. I know I might just be a Princess to you, but Deet is my friend. And I just . . . I know that this is something I need to do. I couldn’t go back to sitting in meetings and learning politics, not when there are _real_ problems.”

She doesn’t reply for a moment, gazing into the fire and sighing as its warmth begins to work away on her frozen skin. “Mother always said that you never listened.” Brea’s head snaps up, shock flooding her expression, leaving Naia to only smirk.

“I like to think of it as having selective hearing, actually.” Brea says haughtily.

The way she throws her chin in the air reminds Naia all too much of the All Maudra. Even if she thinks it, she doesn’t let Brea know.

They settle into a comfortable silence, even though she can feel Brea itching away to ask her even more. Naia intercepts again. “What is our plan then?”

She peers up in surprise. “You’re going to help us?”

“I’m not going to let a Vapran and a Stonewood take all of the glory.” Naia chuckles, adding. “And besides, I was _originally_ supposed to go on the quest before somebody stole the shard.”

Brea rolls her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t steal it. I was merely protecting it as the All Maudra requested.”

“Technicalities,” she shakes her head.

As their conversation begins to lull, Brea suddenly jumps with a start. Naia watches in confusion as she pats every inch of her clothing and then rushes over to her cloak, haphazardly searching through that as well. Gurjin and Rian join her in frowning deeply at the young gelfling.

“What are you doing?” Rian dares to ask.

Eyes flashing toward him, she gives a panicked cry. “The shard!” Brea says, “It’s _gone_!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Writer's block and work took over my life for too long. But here is the next part to the adventure and things are starting to get more into the action.

Skeksil slithers into the Crystal chamber, slowing as he notices Skekso’s full attention on the Crystal. Amongst the deep purple, imagines of Thra push through – particularly of a gelfling he knows all too well. He pulls his head back, interest peaking at whatever the Crystal bats have found.

The imagine fades into the Crystal, leaving a seething Skekso remaining. He turns, dark eyes contemplative. When they notice Skeksil, he stands more erect and powerful. “Ahh, Chamberlain.”

“Emporer.” He bows his head slowly, but never keeps his eyes from Skekso. His voice echoes around the large chambers, bouncing from the walls. “You look troubled, sire.”

“Troubled?!” He demands gruffly. “Nothing troubles your Emperor.”

Skeksil’s mouth curls into what resembles a smile. “Not even stonewood gelfling?” He cocks his head to the side, eyes boring into Skekso’s.

There is a moment of silence before anyone speaks. “You saw into the Crystal?” His voice quietens.

“I saw.” He steps closer, tail swishing against the cold, stone floors. “Bats are useful, no? Keep track of those pesky gelfling.”

“They had the missing shard with them.” He sneers, “No doubt they’re headed to the Castle right now.”

“Is almighty Emperor scared?”

“Do not mock me, Chamberlain.” He leans over the smaller Skeksis, an intimidating mass, especially as his coarse breathing meets Skeksil’s ears. “Or do you wish to join the same fate as the gelfling?”

Recoiling, he walks backwards and to the other side of the Crystal. “No, no, no. I would never say anything bad about my lord.” Head shaking from side to side, his fingers meet in a plan. “I am here to help.”

“I do not need your help.”

A frown lips on his expression for a second before it’s replaced with a dastardly smile. “Okay then. I go.”

As he begins to bounce away, a thundering voice calls him back.

Skeksil halts, turning on the spot. “Mhmmmmm?” His mouth opens slowly in anticipation, revealing his set of revoltingly sharp teeth.

“You have an idea.” It’s a statement, not a question.

He moves back into the room smugly, straightening his robes as he does so. “Gelfling have shard.” He says, earning a nod from Skeksil. “But not for long.”

“What do this mean?”

“Skeksis can make fake shards. Swap them for real one.” He sneers with glee, “gelfling brains are tiny – they won’t realise. Not until too late.”

Skekso observes him with narrowed eyes, his expression as pensive as it can be. “You think this will work?”

Nodding eagerly, he says, “It will be easy.”

“Then see it be done!” He demands.

“_Mhmmmmm_.” Skeksil gives a dutiful nod, “of course, my Emporer. My pleasure.”

* * *

Brea finds herself unable to remain stationary, bouncing on the balls on her feet as she paces back and forth. Every so often, her eyes will flicker to the makeshift door which remains closed. Not long ago, Naia, Gurjin and Rian had left in pursuit of the shard, wanting to backtrack the path they had taken last night. No matter how much she’d wanted to go, someone had to stay with Kylan . . .

She spins, almost getting tangled in her own worries. He remains much the same, still lay on the bed of cloaks and clothes that they’d created overnight

For a moment, she allows her panic about the shard to subside, usurped by the altogether scarier though that Kylan is hurt. Brea moves to the spot where she had spent most of the night dutifully watching over him and sits. Even in the stillness, her legs bounce beneath her. He quickly becomes the subject of her intense gaze as she once again hopes that he’s okay. Small streaks of deep red still mottle his dark hair; his cut lies hidden beneath muslin cloth, protected by a healing ointment that Naia had with her.

Without thinking, Brea reaches forward and gently lifts the soft locks of his hair to get a closer inspection. The beige of his dressing is stained all different hues of red – bordering on black in the centre. She sighs ever so gently, an action filled with the uttermost sadness.

But it’s not the only noise that fills the air. Over Kylan’s light breathing, she hears something that is altogether unsettling. The sounds penetrate the small gaps between the boulder blocking the entrance, finding its way to Brea’s ears. She stiffens, breath catching so quickly in her throat that it’s almost painful.

It’s like nothing she’s ever heard before; there’s something awfully _unnatural_ about it. That seems to make it all the more terrifying. As much as fear grips at her, curiosity always wins in the end and she finds herself moving on unsteady feet. When she nears the small gap, Brea presses her face against the icy, rough stone and stares out into the bright woods opening outside.

The brightness wanes just like that of the shining moon, hidden beneath great, bulbous shapes. Brea uses all her willpower to stay as silent as possible, watching in horror as the gargantuan creatures pass their hiding spot.

She realises quickly that these are the origin of the wretched clunking noise – it’s as though someone has hastily strewn together a series of objects, all of which clash and fight horribly together. The result? A truly monstrous scene before her. There are four of them, she thinks, but her vision is skewed and they move all too cumbersomely past her.

Her nostril flare when she catches wind of their smell. It is as putrid as rotting meats and as abhorrent as the medicines her clan healer had given her as a childling. It’s not a smell she is too familiar with, but if she had to hazard a guess she would say death. And those creatures _reek_ of it.

Brea’s spinning thoughts are cut short when the stones behind her shift, a hiss of pain following mere seconds afterwards. She jumps, turning her attention back to a stirring Kylan.

“_Oh_.” Brea retreats to the spot where he’s lay. “You’re awake!” she cries out in surprise and utter relief.

Her voice may be slightly too loud because Kylan winces before pulling himself up onto wobbly arms. “Brea.” He begins in a strained voice, eyes barely slithers.

She is already kneeling on the floor next to him, pulling him into a tight hug that makes him emit the tiniest of squeaks. Apologetic, she pulls back. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She says honestly, “I was so worried.”

He may be a little woozy, but Brea’s words and actions bring the sweetest of smiles to his lips. It begins to slip away as his focus moves to their surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in a cave.” She explains. “Gurjin found it after we escaped from those creatures.” Brea observes him with a sympathetic gaze, “We thought it would be safer until you were healed.”

Slowly, he lifts a hand to gently graze against the cloth, only for Brea to stop it with her own. “Naia said not to disturb it.” Her voice is stern, leaving no room for questioning. Despite her own words, she straightens the cloth without thinking.

“Where _is_ Naia?”

This causes Brea to halt in her actions. She throws a haphazard glance over her shoulder at the entrance. “She went outside.” Her voice is almost a whisper.

“Where did she go?” He straightens himself fully into the sitting position, watching the way that Brea’s face grows paler by the second.

“Looking for the shard.”

His expression suddenly matches hers. “_Why_ are they looking for the shard?”

“They’re out there with those things.”

Kylan’s frown deepens, worry lines growing in earnest across his features. “What things? Brea, what is going on?”

There is a long drawn pause as her brain attempts to ground the whizzing thoughts she fights against. Imagines of the creatures the previous night flash back into her mind, then the ones she’d just witnessed making their way through the forest. They had something in common – those empty, purple eyes. Just like the Crystal.

She feels her wide, panicked eyes settle on Kylan. “_Something bad_.”

* * *

Rian’s feet trudge against the muddied floor, squelching as they go. Behind him, the tuneful sounds of Gurjin’s singing fills the forest – some song about a Drenchen girl that Rian doesn’t question. Naia, in contrast, maintains her cool silence as they walk up river. It feels like a different forest altogether; light pushes through to the floor beneath them, bathing the three gelfling in speckles of a golden sunshine.

Despite the picturesque scenery, Rian couldn’t feel any more down heartened.

With the shard gone, they are now thrown a few steps back in their plan, and are further away from helping Deet. His head hangs low as they walk, hair being whipped around by the soft winds.

Gurjin’s song comes to a quiet end, leaving only the sounds of the forest to take its place. It doesn’t take him long to start up a conversation, though. “How much further are we going to go?”

“Until we find the shard again.” Naia insists.

He frowns. “This is useless.”

“We need it, Gurjin.”

“But it could be _anywhere_.”

“I guess we’re looking everywhere then.” She replies with a deflated sigh.

Rian turns then, observing them with thought. “We definitely had it before the river . . . I saw it under Brea’s cloak as she ran.” His eyes move to the now gently flowing waters, “it _must_ have fallen in there.”

The three come to a slow halt. Gurjin’s eyes are intense as he stares at the same thing Rian does. “But if it’s anywhere in the river, we’re never going to find it.” The three watch as water weaves and crashes over itself down the steep hill. “It could have been swept hours away, or someone could have taken it.”

Even though he shares that same doubt that Gurjin speaks with, he forces himself not to disagree. “We need to keep hope,” he says, voice faltering on the last words. “It’s all we have.” With that, he turns and continues on their quest. Moments later, he hears two pairs of feet rushing to catch up with him and a twin moves to stand on either side of him.

“Gurjin is right.” Naia comments, adding, “for once.” The conflict in her expression makes a far change from its usual stoic nature. “We could spend the next ten trine looking for it and never find it.”

“Please tell me we’re not going to be looking for ten trine.” Gurjin balks.

She tsks, turning her attention to the Stonewood in the middle. “What I mean, Rian, is that we need to a better to find it.”

Rian’s lips tug downwards, doubtful. “But what can we do?” He shakes his head lightly as he thinks, “like you said, it could be anywhere by now.”

Her eyes suddenly light up. “I have an idea.”

Both men observe her with unsure features.

“Oh, don’t look so frightened.” There is a liberal eye roll from Naia, whose own gaze falls upon the river. “Thra will know where the shard is, and who knows Thra best of all?”

There is a slight delay as her question lingers there way. Rian is the one to break the silence. “Mother Aughra!”

“Yes.” Naia nods. “She will know. She can talk to Thra.”

Her suggestion brings a sudden bounce to his steps, face lighting with eagerness. “Mother Aughra, that’s right. She can help us.” Rian makes to begin walking until he realises that no one is following him this time. He turns, eyes questioning.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Uh . . .”

“Kylan . . . Brea.” Naia prompts through narrowed eyes.

Rian admonishes himself for forgetting them, quickly catching up to his friends once more as they turn on their heels. “Right.” He speaks with a new assuredness, “we will get them and head back to Stone – in – the – Wood.”

Gurjin’s ears flicker in confusion, head tilting to glance down to him. “Why would we go there?”

“ . . . because that’s where Mother Augrha is.”

“Not anymore.” Naia cuts in.

“Then where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

Rian’s head begins to spiral once more, chest filling with worries and fears as he wonders if anything will ever be simple again. Naia must notice because she moves that slightest bit closer, her voice strangely soft and sure. “I know what you’re thinking . . . and trust me, we have more chance of finding Mother Aughra than we do that crystal shard.”

“But how do you know?”

She doesn’t say anything, just offers the hint of a smile and gently pats his shoulder. He almost considers the moment a gesture between good friends until he notices her dagger still held tightly in the hand on his shoulder. Rian eyes it, all of his muscles tensing involuntarily.

Gurjin must notice because a low chuckle falls from his lips, following by, “don’t worry, Rian. She’s never used it on another gelfling.”

Hand falling down to her side, she turns to the pair with an expression that is not to be messed with. “_Yet_.”

As she begins walking ahead of them, Rian only stares in shock.

* * *

“Next.”

Seladon sits stiffly on the throne, trying to ignore the ache in her back and the weight on her shoulders as another gelfling enters her chambers. The problems have been relentless, begging for solution after solution, and causing her poor brain to throb with overuse.

But as ever, duty calls.

A couple of gelfling step before her; Seladon sits straight as recognition pulls at her core. The blond pair look just as troubled as they did at the tithing, if not more so, and this time they carry a small childling in their arms. If she had to hazard a guess, she’d say it was no more than a few weeks old. “Thank you for an audience, All Maudra.” The man speaks, voice hoarse.

“Of course.” She responds clearly, voice booming around the room. “What appears to be the problem?”

“I bring terrible news . . .” He begins, voice shaking as he speaks.

She feels her heart plummet as though from a great height, nausea following. The last thing that she needs is more troubles to haunt her dreams – with Brea still out there and no word from the paladins, Seladon. “How so?” The reluctance to ask shows and she does her best to maintain an indifferent façade.

Neither seem to notice her struggle within for they continue regardless. “The blight has spread across our lands – at first it as just our village . . . and then it happened to the next. And the village after that.” He speaks meekly, his eyes tired and hollowed. “There are no crops, All Maudra.”

She sucks in a long breath, if anything just to give her more time to think on his words. This isn’t the first she’s heard of this sickness of the land, no doubt exacerbated by the work of the Skeksis. Her fingers clutch more tightly to the arms of the throne in an attempt to ground herself.

“Have you tried moving your fields? Starting anew?”

The female gelfling steps forward to stand beside her husband. From pale lips, she speaks, “we have. More than once.” She clutches the childling in her arm that bit closer to her body. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What about different crops?” Seladon suggests, hope cracking through her words.

“Only those that will grow in Ha’rar.” He admits. “The soils are harsh and only few crops can withstand it.”

She nods, knowingly. Gaze downcast for the slightest of moments, she finally lets her eyes settle back on the couple who stand in weary silence. “I will send a paladin to join you at your village and investigate this blight. I will also have our librarian study the tomes for any knowledge of it.”

“Thank you, All Maudra. We appreciate your help.”

“Of course.” As they turn to walk away, she spies the weakness in their slow movement. The last the female leans against her husband for support. She thinks to what her mother would have done to help – is this what she would have said? Is there anything else to be done? The internal struggles pulls her in many directions, and she fears she might not be able to put herself back together soon.

Then another’s words come into her mind, not of her mother but _Brea’s_.

_We have plenty of food in our stores. _

And all of a sudden, the solution seems as clear as the fresh mountain rivers.

“Wait.” She insists just as they reach the opening doors.

They turn, curiously. Yet there’s also the hint of fear in her eyes, as though she’s going to change her mind and reconsider sending help. Seladon tries to ignore the way her heart clenches painfully at that. She stands without realising, slowly descending down the few steps of the throne to meet her couple in the middle of the room. Up close, she can see just how hunger has taken its toll on their appearance, from their much too slender faces to the lack of spark behind both pairs of eyes.

“I will have some supplies sent with you to last a few weeks, until some other arrangements can be made.” Her words are light as air and when they finally drift over to the other two, they look at Seladon with the uttermost relief.

“Oh, thank you!”

Seladon jumps in surprise as she’s suddenly embraced in a slack hug of sheer joy. The moment does not go unappreciated though, and she misses the lack of contact as the hug is quickly ended.

Almost sheepishly, the woman bows her head. “I am sorry . . . I don’t know what came over me. I –”

“Make no apologies.” She begins graciously. Her lack of willpower is reminiscent of her sister, and Seladon’s lips grow into a bittersweet smile.

Her husband steadies her, one arm around her shoulder and the other resting lovingly on that on his sleeping baby. He meets Seladon’s gaze. “We are truly grateful, All Maudra. Your kindness will not go forgotten.”

The two are quickly sent on their way with the promised paladin and supplies, while Seladon must return to her duties. More problems are brought her way, and none dissimilar to what she’s already heard. As the day continues, she struggles to keep the couple from playing on her mind.

* * *

“They’ve been gone for a really long time.”

Kylan looks up to Brea, who is dangerously close to wearing a hole in the floor with her pacing. “Brea?” He tries to grain her attention but she continues to spiral down of a road of dangerous thoughts.

“Something isn’t right . . . what if those creatures found them?”

He feels faint at the memory of the creatures she had showed him through dream fasting, and now as he watches her he shares her fear. Only, he needs to be the calm voice for he fears her imagination will get the best of her.

“Brea.” He tries again, only for her to move to the door this time and peer out once more. Her arms are crossed neatly (and _tightly_) across her chest, and her shoulders fall as though heavy with worry. Kylan sighs to himself, knowing that he’s not going to get through to her from where he’s sat on the floor. So with shaky legs he manages to stand and cross the small distance between them.

Her laments continue until he gingerly reaches a hand forward and places it on her arm. Brea practically jumps out of her skin, eyes flashing impossibly wide. “Kylan,” she breathes out, “you’re supposed to be resting.”

“it’s kind of hard . . . you’ve been pacing for a long time.”

He’s glad to see her finally be still, but worry creeps onto her features still. Kylan wishes he could take it all away but he fears he doesn’t know how.

“I just wish there was something that we could do.”

Kylan looks to her ever so softly, eyes thoughtful. “Well, we can go and find them,” he tries as he had earlier.

Just as before, Brea quickly rejects his idea. “No. You’re hurt, Kylan.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” The wound pangs in pain, as if on cue, and he does his best not to react to it. Brea watches him, features scrunching together as she scrutinises him. Her nose wrinkles tightly, eyes intensely boring into his. She doesn’t believe him, he can already tell, and it doesn’t take her long to blurt it out.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.”

He sees her trying to restrain an eye roll. “Yes, you are. Besides, I was specifically told by Naia that if you were to wake up I had to make sure you rested.”

Heaving out a sigh, he tries once more. “If our friends are in trouble, I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

“You could get hurt,” she counters.

“_They_ could be hurt.”

Brea opens her mouth to speak, only for it to slowly close again.

“I know that you want to help them too.”

“But Naia said –”

“Since when have you ever followed orders?” Despite the severity of their situation, he allows a tender smile to make its way to his lips. He’s known Brea since she was just a childling – even then she’d had a certain proclivity for trouble. She gasps at his words, and for a moment he thinks she’s genuinely shocked, until a sheepish look sweeps over the previous expression.

She doesn’t give up though, stubborn as always. “This is different.”

“Yes, it is.” He nods. “This time, we’re ignoring orders _together_. If Naia wants to be angry at anyone, she can be angry at me.” His voice is both determined and serious, “after we make sure that they are okay.”

“Only if you promise to be careful!” she insists, attempting to mask her worry with sternness.

Kylan smiles. “I promise.”

Now that they’ve come to a hasty agreement, he helps Brea pack up their few belongings and head toward the door. Between the pair of them, they just about manage to move the boulder out of the way and into the woods once more. His head stings from the bright light and if Brea notices his reaction, she doesn’t say anything.

She still seems reluctant, but doesn’t suggest staying behind any more. Instead, she completely and utterly surprises him.

“Thank you, by the way.”

He gives pause then, ears flickering out curiously at her statement. “For what?”

“For helping me yesterday.” In the brightness, he barely sees the smile on her face, but he _definitely_ feels the way she takes hold of his arm and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Um –” He clears his throat, “I . . . it was nothing, really.”

Brea is already beginning another conversation, so he focuses what little energy he has on tracking the others. Thankfully, their footprints are visible in the muddy floor, leading them right their way. His bloody runs icily through his veins when he spies the other markings imprinted on the soil, the ones that undoubtedly belong to what Brea had seen.

* * *

Said creatures amble through the forest for the rest of the night, one goal driving their actions – to kidnap gelfling. Mindlessly, they follow the clues left by their huntees, the forest swimming with their smell.

Their Garthims’ masters cower within the halls of their might Castle, Skekok working away tirelessly to replicate as many shards as possible. His sneer grows more sinister with each created by his treacherous hands.

Back in the forest, Kylan and Brea walk against the darkening woods, their concerns growing as the moonlight does.

Against the same light, the other three gelfling retrace their steps, unaware of their precarious position in Thra that night.

* * *

Deet’s eyes are wide as saucers as she stares up into the navy sky. The shining moonlight catches in those eyes, blending with the purple veins that take hold. She is tired and weary, but she powers through.

She’s close, she knows.

Some invisible pull tugs at her strong enough that she fears she might be knocked off her feet. While her body moves of its own accord, her mind is one track right now. Despite the hope that still lingers inside her, fears bubbles up and takes over. It’s a constant battle to push it back down, one that she considers she might be at the losing end of.

The tip of a building appears in the sky line, unnaturally poking out over the beautiful backdrop of Thra. Deet knows instinctively that it belongs to the Skeksis, and sucks in a deep breath. Looks like she is closer to the Castle than she thought.

And close to her friends, too.

Images of them flash into her mind, and for a brief second she feels like herself again. Oh, what she’d do to feel the warm embrace of one of her friends, and not the icy blanket of darkness that she carries.

“I’m coming to you.” She speaks aloud, her voice a hopeful whisper.

Even as she wants to stop and take in the world around her, Deet’s legs don’t allow it and they proceed moving forward.

She takes in some of that determination, insisting that once and for all she’s going to help her friends, the gelfling and all of Thra.

The world is unusually quiet around her, which amplify the next few words she allows out. “I’m coming to you, Rian.”


End file.
